


To plan even spontaneity

by midnightfeast



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Female Uchiha Madara - Freeform, Light Angst, Married Couple, Somewhat Humorous, Unplanned Pregnancy, not sure where it came from, somewhat based on a true story, talk of potential miscarriage, this one is a bit weird, where did all the FLUFF come from???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:21:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 37,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26485582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightfeast/pseuds/midnightfeast
Summary: And that she did not pass out from shock then and there was a sign of a childhood lived alongside four brothers notoriously known for surprises.Because the blob moved.And her gynaecologist sounded as surprised as she felt. “You’re pregnant.”or: Against everything her doctors told her, Madara falls pregnant, but with her illness this is not only good news.
Relationships: Senju Hashirama/Uzumaki Mito, Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara, Uchiha Izuna/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 98
Kudos: 195





	1. Do I wanna know

**Author's Note:**

> Buckle up folks, this story is loosely based on something that happened to one of my aunts. 
> 
> I hope you can tell that this is meant to be more hopeful and uplifting than angsty and it'll stay that way. I can't tell how long it'll be, because I haven't fully finished, but probably four or five chapters (we'll see).
> 
> I am not a medial professional, nor have I consulted one. All details mentioned are from personal experience or good ol' google, so if there is something that bothers you, just tell me:)
> 
> Most these character are not mine, but Masashi Kishimoto's. English is not my first language so expect some errors.

When her normally already irregular period suddenly had been nothing but light spotting, accompanied by unfamiliar pain, nausea and a tender, bloated stomach, she had thought her Endometriosis was having a flare. 

A new cyst growing, perhaps. Maybe this was the worsening growth her gynaecologist had warned her about. 

Either way, it had had her sigh and schedule an appointment with her gynaecologist within the same week.

“Maybe I’m having an early menopause.” She reminiscent as she poked her greenbeans with a fork repeatedly until they were unrecognisable. 

“Isn’t 34 a bit young for that?” Tobirama replied, but he stared at the green massacre she had left in between roasted potatoes and a steak in peppered sauce. She hadn’t even finished her side-salad even though Tobirama had made the dressing she liked. In the twitch of his eyebrow Madara could read his annoyance, he had probably spent thirty minutes marinating and roasting these beans to perfection. They tasted good, she was just not feeling any of it.

When she had told him of her weird symptoms, he had been concerned. He had made sure to come home early, to have dinner ready for when she came in and he even got them that expensive wine, the one they usually kept for good news or when they wanted to make a night especially good. 

“Is it? Who knows what my body decides to do next. I mean, my stomach looks like someone blended my intestines and healed them right up.”

Tobirama dropped the piece of meat he had just had on his fork ready to eat. “Do I ever tell you how much I like your topic of conversations over dinner?” He asked dryly and took the bottle of wine to refill his glass.

“Don’t.” Madara interjected. “Here. You can have mine.” She slid him her barely touched glass. She was harbouring a mild headache already and was not in the mood to drink anyway. They indulged so seldom nowadays, that a small sip could provoke a headache.

Tobirama put down the bottle, but instead of taking her glass, he leaned forward and took her hand. “When is your appointment? I could take the day off and accompany you.”

Madara pressed his fingers and brought her other hand up to rub her face. “No, you don’t need to. Most likely, I’m making a fuss over nothing. I’ll probably be in and out in twenty minutes with nothing but a new scan picture for the collection.” 

The collection was one of her medical files that held a record of all the ultrasound images of her abdomen. Weird growth had blocked most of her fallopian tubes, cysts had enveloped her ovaries and scared her uterus, so maybe this was exactly that. Until now, she had been extremely lucky to get away with relatively mild pain. “I just hope they don’t tell me to consider surgery.”

Tobirama’s finger started to gently massage her palm. “Honestly, if the growth is so bad that you need to have them removed for your own safety I would like you to think about it.” 

He was right, of course, and Madara knew. Still, the thought of an invasive surgery until now had been nothing more than a risky possibility if she had wanted to have children. The thought that it might be something she would have to do to lessen her pain was off putting. 

As usual, Tobirama managed to pull her out of her thoughts with nothing more than a shy smile and inquisitive eyes. “Is there anything I can do for you?” 

“Like crème brûlée?” 

He snorted, rolled his eyes, but rose with an exaggerated sigh to open the fridge and pull out a class dish. “I called earlier to have one reserved, they would have been sold out otherwise.” 

“Lucky me.” Madara deadpanned as Tobirama turned on the oven that had barely had time to cool since he took out the potatoes and beans. “Don’t pretend that I’m the only one addicted.” 

Ever since their holiday in France less than two months ago, Tobirama and Madara had an increased sweet tooth and especially for crème brûlée. When they found out that their local French restaurant had one that was just as good as the one at their hotel, they had made a habit of buying one once a week or so.

He was playing his annoyance well, leaned against the counter top and arms crossed to look at her, but Madara could see right through that. “And I thought more along the lines of run a bath and cancel Friday’s dinner at Hashirama’s.”

“A bath I’d like, but Hashirama will cry us an entire lake if we cancel again.”

“He recommended that weird movie too, didn’t he? Maybe we should watch it tonight so he’ll stop telling us about it.” 

“We’re not watching that clusterfuck of a film. He showed me the trailer and that alone was weird enough to drive me up the wall.”

“As you wish.” Tobirama opened the oven and put the glass dish in under the grill to caramelise the top. Not the most traditional French way, but Madara refused to allow him to use a Bunsen burner or flame torch in their newly renovated kitchen. “But if he asks, you can explain to him why we haven’t seen it despite his insistence.”

Madara had closed her eyes and soaked in peaceful silence that was only disturbed by Tobirama’s soft knock at the door frame. She opened her eyes to watch him step closer, sly glint in his eyes she could not hesitate to grab the hem of his shirt and pull him down. 

He settled on the side of the tub. His hand tangled in her hair at the same time Madara pulled his collar to kiss him deep. His tongue in her mouth, a moan of relief she hummed against his lips, but then he moved closer still and his lips pushed her deeper into the water, her hair, up in a messy bun, almost got wet.

He was still wearing his white shirt he put on for work whenever they had more official meetings, but he had rolled up his sleeves to wash the pans and pots and put his muscular forearms on display. Tobirama had opened two buttons and got rid of his tie already, but his broad shoulders stretched the fabric in just the right way. 

And now a wet handprint revealed just a little more skin underneath.

“Dishy.” Murmured against his lips with a small grin. Madara tucked at the damp dishcloth he had placed over his shoulder and at his groan, deepened the kiss to turn it more into a moan. “Get in here with me.” 

It was not a question, but Tobirama told her often enough that he would hardly refuse anyway. Only when… 

“Just need to finish drying the dishes. Here.” He tapped her temple with a glass of water and handed her a painkiller tablet, both of which she took and downed. 

“It’ll dry on its own.” She handed him the empty glass and despite her suggestively roaming hands on his leg, he straightened himself and through her a look of annoyance. 

“And have them collect scale? It’ll take me five minutes to dry them now or twenty later to rewash them.”

He had leaned back a bit, but a small tuck at his collar and he kissed her once more. Madara could not resist teasing. A lick of her tongue along his bottom lip, just shy of splitting them and venturing deeper. Then, as he groaned ready to let her in, she averted, scraping her teeth and wet lips along his jaw to lick his ear shell instead. 

But Tobirama adapted, mouthed wet kisses along her neck with the slightest promise of tongue and then the sting of teeth not quit breaking the skin beneath her ears. 

And then his entire body shivered once she audibly exhaled, more a moan than a sigh, right against his ear in hot breathy tease. “I hate it when you make me wait.”

And then she sighed, released her hold on his collar, but Tobirama kissed her again, so long that Madara’s toes curled and her back ached. She was nearly convinced he had change his mind. 

But then, in true Tobirama-fashion, he looked her in the eyes with pupils blown so wide they almost erased the red of his iris and yet he could still clear his throat, distance himself and stand. “I’ll be back soon.”

It brought her at least a small satisfaction that he needed a moment to adjust his trousers because of his erection. 

Before he could vanish again, she added. “Thank you.”

“Mh?” Tobirama stilled and half-turned.

“You’re doing all the work.” 

He fully turned back now and now she could see his smile. “Our next seminar is at the end of the month, so there’ll be plenty of time to even the score then.”

“Go finish, Senju. Don’t make me wait till I look like a prune.”

“Wouldn’t want that.” He added dryly as he pulled the door to keep in the warm air, but did not close it fully. 

Madara closed her eyes and listened to the sound of Tobirama opening cupboards and humming to one of his current favourite pieces.

True to his word, he returned soon and closed the door behind himself. 

And because Madara was watching him with her usual unabashed interest he rolled his eyes, but wore a playful glint as he undressed slowly. Tobirama still played basketball with his brothers once a week and he cycled to work daily, which really showed. He had always been fit and now especially for a man with a fulltime job in his mid-thirties.

Often enough, he would rest against her stomach so Madara could massage his head after a late-night research extravaganza at the lab, but during nights like this, he stepped into the tub behind her so Madara could use his chest as a pillow. 

The warm water rose with his added mass in the tub, but the excess drained easily, yet for a second, Madara was covered up to her shoulders in warmth. He embraced her, one arm over her waist and hand at her stomach, the other over her chest. There was no hardness pressed against her lower back so drying the dishes had apparently diverted Tobirama’s mind. 

Tobirama murmured against her temple with a low breath that tickled her ear as well. “Do you feel better?” 

“I’m not in pain right now.” His head was a comfortable weight against her neck, especially when he started to kiss his way down to her shoulder.

Water rippled along her legs as Tobirama pulled her closer and Madara hummed approvingly. “I want you.” She spoke it into the comfortable silence between them, but Tobirama surely had noticed. 

She could feel him smile against the back of her neck. “Please, for the sake of our joints, not in the bathtub.”

“Killjoy.” But his hands were moving already and Madara had found good grip in his strands too, to keep his mouth right at her neck as she leaned even more against him. 

Madara woke and her headache had not succumbed, but now her stomach was turning too. 

“Morning. You slept through my alarm.” Tobirama came in and with him a whiff of freshly brewed coffee she normally would have thanked him and the heavens for the cup, but during the last couple of weeks it only had her scrunch in distaste. Of course he noticed, he was eerily attuned to her micro expressions.

Instead of placing a cup at her bedside, he sat by her side and felt her forehead, but Madara turned under his touch, closer to him but also to press her nose into her pillow to blank out the smell. “Do you want tea instead?”

“Camomile, my headache is killing me.” She was unsure if he had heard her, because her voice was muffled by the pillow her face still rested in.

His hand that still roamed over her head and detangled some of her strands vibrated with his concerned hum. “You’re aware that we’re watching Izuna’s spawn tonight, right?”

“I know.”

“We could tell him you’re not feeling well.” She felt his hand linger, but his weight vanished from the mattress as he stood.

“It’s fine. I’ll be up in a minute too.” Madara sighed which turned into a displeased grunt when a cold breeze drew along her shoulders. Tobirama must have opened the window and then left, but returned shortly after with a glass of water and painkillers which she took.

Work was fine. New piles with files had materialised on her table overnight and her assistant took too long explaining to her where they had come from so she sorted through them herself. 

She got home later than anticipated, which meant that she had missed Izuna. 

While she pulled of her jacket and put on her slippers, an excited toddler voice and baby babble reached her even at the entrance before she could turn the corner. 

Izuna had dropped a bag filled with clothes, diapers and the like by the couch. Their kitchen and living area were one big room separated by a long dinner table which was set for two people already. 

Tobirama stood by the stove, gently swaying from left to right and relentlessly stirring in some pot that smelt suspiciously like ragout. He turned towards her slowly and revealed one year old Shiomi who was almost asleep against his chest.

Izuna’s oldest daughter Nōtori greeted Madara from inside a highchair by the kitchen table with a piece of banana which she masterfully catapulted in front of Madara’s feet. “Mada, I want out.”

“Hello, cheeky.” Barely three, but already a handful, Nōtori stretched up her arms and grinned with a face so alike Izuna’s that Madara could do nothing else but pick her up and carry her to greet Tobirama.

Madara made sure to keep her voice low, but she caressed his shoulder and gave him a kiss despite the toddler trying to pull out her hair. “Hello, had a good day?” 

“Mh, better now. Are you hungry?”

“Very.”

They ate slowly, talking about this and that. Technically, the kids had had dinner at home, but Nōtori had whined about feeling hungry and so Tobirama had prepared her a small plate of what they were having of which she ended up eating nothing but a spoon of vegetable mash and a small piece of meat.

Shiomi was fast asleep on top of Tobirama by the time they settled in front of the TV, but Nōtori lasted almost till the end of the movie before her lids closed nestled by Madara on the couch.

“We should get them to bed.” 

“You go first.” Tobirama murmured, but he sat up slowly to not wake the sleeping toddler in his arms. 

So Madara picked up Nōtori and she did not wake fully, but became conscious enough to grip her hair and nuzzle closer into Madara’s shoulder.

The guest room opposite their bedroom had a crib for toddlers and one for smaller children too. With so many nieces and nephews that it was hard to have a single weekend to themselves without babysitting for either one of their siblings it was mandatory to have at least the most general necessities.

Madara put Nōtori down and shortly after Tobirama came in with Shiomi and their bag. 

Their parents usually remarked that it looked like a nursery already. Madara had hoped that hints like these would subside eventually. After all, her siblings had given them enough grandchildren. 

If things were different, they might have tried for a child too.

But her family knew.

Which was the reason it annoyed her even more.

In her early twenties she had been told with her severity in endometriosis it was close to impossible to ever conceive or even only carry to term. Not that it had bothered her and pregnancy had not been something she envisioned for herself anyway. 

So when she started seeing Tobirama and the topic came up, more as a general subject for the future and not as a suggestion or a proposition, she had told him as she had done with the two other people she had seriously dated before. 

Even though family planning had been so far of her mind, she felt it was only fair to not waste her or someone else’s time on a relationship that (should it prove to be lasting) had a significant risk of failing in the future because of her. 

That Tobirama would regret it one day, both marrying her and giving up on a more traditional form of family, was something she thought about once in a while, usually in moments like these, when she watched him care for their brothers’ children. 

But even that had ceased after a decade of constant reassurance.

Surgery and IVF were possibilities, but with more than one place to extract tissue and an excruciating recovery afterwards, the risks to Madara had never been worth even considering and Tobirama had supported her in her decisions right from the start. 

And should they feel like it one day even after their biological clock had run out, fostering or adoption would be a viable option still.

Thursday morning, she sat in her doctor’s waiting room. Twice that same morning Tobirama had offered to accompany her, but Madara had declined. 

It was the same as usual, waiting in one of the more secluded chairs in the waiting area to work through and prepare things for a later video conference. 

When she was called in, a nurse drew blood first. 

Her doctor asked her for all the symptoms and then warned her, that should the changed tissue not show up on ultrasound they might have to refer her for an MRI or laparoscopy surgery again. 

Madara merely kept her mask of indifference. 

That her doctor, whom she had gone to for several years, would stare at the ultrasound screen, then call for another colleague to ask for a second opinion and eventually announce that they wanted her to pee in a cup, was unusual and honestly concerning.

That they had had her lay down again afterwards to do a second scan, but not a transabdominal ultrasound, but a vaginal (which she hated) and eventually turned the screen so she could see the image too, had had Madara worry even more. 

She was familiar enough with ultrasound images to recognise grown tissue and cysts, but then they pointed at something she could barely make out on the black and white screen. 

There was so much weird mass surrounding it.

And that she did not pass out from shock then and there was a sign of a childhood lived alongside four brothers notoriously known for surprises.

Because the blob moved.

And her gynaecologist sounded as surprised as she felt. “You’re pregnant.”


	2. And this could be our ruin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your kind words!  
> I wanted to upload this next week, but because I had finished it already and you seemed to like the first chapter so much, I thought I'd upload it early :)  
> I said so before, but should their be anything you find offensive or insensitive, please tell me and I'll rework it! <3  
> Also, endometriosis is a very complex and not yet fully understood condition. It has different severities and not everyone struggles with infertility (just for those of you that might read this story and think they might have it and grow anxious).

When Tobirama stepped through the door, his eyes instantly met hers and he was by her side before the nurse at the entrance could even ask him what he was there for. 

Madara had called Tobirama and told him to leave work and come to her doctor’s office immediately. Her gynaecologist meanwhile, had been preparing all sorts of tests for her anyway and Madara had still been in some haze of shock. 

He had been understandably worried, but despite an undertone of panic, the familiarity of his deep voice over the phone had calmed her nonetheless. All had had the nerve for was `I’m not dying´ and `I’d just rather have you here´ and `I honestly don’t want to tell you over the phone´.

Most likely, he thought she would have to have surgery as soon as possible. Or that they found cancerous growth. His hair was tousled, his suit jacket nowhere to be seen and his tie loosened, but he still managed to look like the most attractive person in the room. 

It was a testament to how concerned he was that he drew her into a hug and pressed soft kisses to the crown of her head before seeking eye contact despite several people watching. “Are you alright?”

“Fine enough. Come on, I need to tell you something.” She opened a door to a room her doctor had told her she could wait in for their evaluation and pulled him in. Her gynaecologist was worried. For all sorts of reasons they had not yet fully unveiled to her, but Madara had made it clear right away that she wanted to have her husband there for all assessments. 

Tobirama closed the door behind them and as they were finally away from probing eyes, alone for the moment before her doctor got back with early results and more information, Madara breathed a sigh of relief. 

Tobirama still stood close, closer than he normally would outside their apartment and he scanned her face for anything that could reveal the source of her complex worry. “What happened?” 

Madara had thought about different ways to break the news to him. None of them seemed adequate now that he stood in front of her and was obviously concerned for her health or life. 

And it was not as if Madara was good with words or with stressful situations and she did not want to blurt it out like a bad punch line at the end of an already flat joke.

She pulled out the ultrasound pictures from her back pocket, pulled away from his arms far enough to gently take his and press it into his palm for him to look at. “Here.” 

Tobirama furrowed his brows in confusion, threw her a glance and frowned. “What is this?”

He pulled the images closer, squinted at them and then raised a brow at her.

To be fair, Tobirama was not wearing his glasses and any ultrasound image of her abdomen usually looked like moon craters on a pixelated television. “Our child.” 

And then he stared at her.

Despite the tension, she could not help but groan. He obviously wanted to ask her if she was pranking him, but Tobirama knew well enough that this was no matter she would joke about. 

“What?” He was wide-eyed and tentatively mustering her, a hint of confusion. “Are you serious?”  
She pointed into a spot of darkness to a more greyish bean shaped blotch. He just threw a quick glance at it and then stared at her with disbelief and upset. “I thought it was a growing cyst causing my nausea. Apparently I’m just growing our child.”

Ten years since they met and she had told him right from the start that she was infertile. The reality of it had clearly not sunk in or maybe he already knew that this was not only happy news. “I thought that was impossible.” 

Well, apparently not.

Because here they were and Madara herself had not fully grasped the extent of the news yet.

“My gynaecologist went as far as hailing it a miracle. We should’ve bought a lottery ticket. With the unlikeliness of this, we might have won the jackpot too.” All of it sounded too clinical, but Madara had never been good with moments like this. 

The twisted reality of what this may cause was unnerving. Somehow she felt like she should be elated about this sudden turn of events and yet Madara was mostly dreading the result, because this had the very high chance of messing them up.

Madara had thrown all thoughts of ever becoming mother into the wind when they diagnosed her and only years later when Tobirama and her had just bought their place had she caught herself sometimes mourning for not even getting a choice. 

Some nights when they took care of their nephews and nieces Madara caught herself wondering again. 

Frankly, it was not her fault that Tobirama looked good with a baby in his arms, cradled against his broad shoulders and softly humming along to whatever piece was playing on the classical radio channel he sometimes listened to. 

Tobirama had wanted children. But as he had promised and proven again and again, he wanted her more.

She cut thoughts like those short quickly. They had come to terms with never having a biological child or a child at all. It was nothing they needed to give them a feel of home or family. 

And now… to be given a miracle like this planted horrible hope for something that could turn sour very fast.

A child.

A real living being inside her and eventually supposed to be cared for by them.

She had seen enough babies in her life, had been a visitor in plenty of maternity wards, had babysat so often their apartment had babylocks all over. But to say, they knew the gist of parenthood was too farfetched. Physically, they may be prepared.

But mentally, Madara was not sure if she was ready to do this.

That was, if it survived to make it out of her alive.

On top of her severity in scarring and a general higher risk for women with endometriosis, her age and Tobirama’s too, were just shy of the official age for a high-risk pregnancy and birth defects. 

Their child was statistically doomed to miscarry. Or be born prematurely. Or cause all sorts of complications. (Madara knew clearly that that would not be her fault or the fault of this baby, but she could not help the sliver of guilt.)

And that was nothing either of them had ever thought they’d have to recover from.

Then she felt herself embraced against Tobirama’s chest and only then realised that her sight had blurred. Crying was not something Madara did often. Mostly reserved for quite lonesome moments, which was probably why Tobirama sounded even more panicked than before. 

He allowed her to hide between his arms, rubbing her back and there were definitely more kisses against her head, but he too sounded a lot hoarser than even a minute ago. “We’ll be fine. We’ll manage. This is a surprise, but either way I’m sure we can be okay. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Like massage my feet and bring me ice crème with pickled gherkins?” Even against his shoulder she could not hide the lump in her throat, but Tobirama chuckled at least so he must have heard her. 

“If you want. You can have a backrub and sauerkraut pizza too.”

“Thanks.” She deadpanned. “Right now I just want answers. They will give us a full list of risks and things to expect, but… I think they want to prepare us for the eventual miscarriage.”

Tobirama’s caressing hand at her back froze “But the baby is viable?” 

“As far as they could tell. The heartbeat didn’t show, but there was movement.” And then Madara groaned into the croak of his neck. “Oh lord, I had sushi two weeks ago… and wine…”

Honestly, there was one mental spiral after another she could drag herself down right now, but none of that would be helpful. 

Tobirama dragged her face into the open and kissed her, maybe to shut her up, maybe to calm his own nerves, but it silenced her thoughts at least a little. “We’ll ask your doctor, you didn’t drink much. I’m sure it’ll be fine. And if not, it is not our fault. We didn’t know. And what about you? I imagine there are significant risks.”

“I told them to wait with the full risk assessment till you got here.” “How the hell will I avoid stress? It’s basically there in my job description.”

“We’ll come up with something.” 

A car honked outside somewhere and both of them looked towards the window, but through the blinds nothing but natural daylight reached the inside. Tobirama’s brows were furrowed, his shoulders drawn close. “Are you okay?” Madara watched him carefully as he turned to her again.

“Yeah… just…” His locks swayed softly with every gently headshake. “This is a lot to take in. And I feel a little guilty.”

“Why? It’s not only your fault we don’t use condoms all the time.”

They only ever used condoms when they did not want to worry about the mess afterwards. As important as that protection would be to anyone else, Madara and Tobirama were clean, had been exclusive for more than a decade and supposedly never had to worry about unplanned pregnancy. 

Because of family history with different illnesses, she had never opted for hormonal birth control that might have lessened her endometriosis symptoms too.

Tobirama cringed visibly. “That’s not what I mean. There is just very little I can do to help you or the situation.” 

That he did not feel comfortable when a situation was beyond his control Madara knew, so she gave his arm a reassuring squeeze and him a chaste kiss. “We’ll see what they tell us. I think they want to line me up for all sorts of testing.” 

Maybe they had to focus more on the positive side of their situation. As bad as it may seem, as of right now, they had a child. 

Or more correctly, an embryo. And it was still alive.

“Do you want to see the other pictures too?”

Tobirama seemed confused for a second, but as Madara pulled out another set of ultrasound images, his face lit up. He opened his bag and looked for something, then pulled out his reading glasses to get a better look at the images. 

There was not a lot to be seen. The baby looked more like a bean than a human and even though her doctor had written down measurements and estimated conception and due date at the side, Tobirama mustered the piece of paper with thoughtfulness.

Madara noticed how gentle he held them, how careful he was not to crumple or bend them. And when he looked at her next, his eyes were more watery than she had expected and she found herself pulling him in and holding him while his nose nuzzled her neck.

“Maybe she can hook me up again and you can see it yourself.” Madara was sure her doctor would indulge them. “Maybe we are luckier with a heartbeat too.”

Tobirama nodded, then stared at the ultrasound images again. “How long…?”

“Eight weeks.”

Eight weeks and Madara rapidly went through all her memories to think of all the moments she had actually carried this possible child of theirs around without even knowing. To the beach and the supermarket. To Brussel on her business trip and on visits to their parents and brothers.

Eight weeks and she was not sure which night had led to the conception, but they had been on holiday in southern France so there had been plenty of sex. 

Tobirama seemed to have thought something similar.

“So when we were on holiday… we should show our gratitude in some way.” 

Madara yanked his shirt and gave him a half-hearted glare. “If this kid survives, we’ll not name it Nîmes.”

Tobirama gave her a side-glance, the softness in his eyes really betrayed his otherwise honest attempt at serious humour. “We could name it after the hotel manager. Dieudonnée Uchiha or Dieudonné Senju does have a nice ring.” 

It really, really didn’t.

“You’re horrible.” 

They spent the time looking at the images together. Her doctor returned eventually.

Madara had never seen that woman smile as broad as she did when she presented them with a thick stack of informational papers. They did not shake hands, but she greeted Tobirama with a nod, a smile and a wave towards her table. 

“So you are Mr. Uchiha?”

“Senju.”

Madara and Tobirama sat opposite her and her doctor sorted some notes and eventually looked up. “Mr. Senju, apologies. I must say, this is quite the case. I have to congratulate you, both of you, but Mr. Senju, your semen quality must be immaculate. Truly, to navigate a uterus and fallopian tubes as bad as yours,” she nodded towards Madara and was clearly excited, “well, this is a really unusual case.” 

Seldom had Madara heard a more awkward compliment. 

Tobirama, smooth man that he was, did not even flinch, but a reflexive glance at Madara showed how uncomfortable this made him. And the weirdness lingered, even as they prepared for a talk.

Their child had a heartbeat. They could hear it clear and strong during the screening they did so Tobirama could see the baby too. (Not that there was a lot to see, but in his awe, Tobirama gripped her hand with enough force to hurt anyway.) 

Madara had not been prepared for the wave of emotions that hid alongside the steady thumpthump, but having Tobirama there made it somehow more real. 

They had a child. 

If things went well, they might get to see it and hold it and keep it too.

“I’m starving.” Madara pulled of her jacket and through it onto their bench by the entrance. “What do you recon we can whisk together?”

It was barely midday, but she felt exhausted. And hungry. And emotional. And changed too. 

A new awareness for her body and surroundings had emerged and she could not stop thinking about the fact that it was there. Their child. It had hardly asked to be created and they had not anticipated to make it either, but there it was. Moving and growing and right there inside her at all times, hidden away like a toy inside a kinder-surprise-egg. 

“Just reheat yesterday’s leftovers.” Tobirama called from their entrance were he sorted through the mail as Madara strode on towards their kitchen. 

She preheated the oven and opened the fridge to pull out yesterday’s dinner just as Tobirama walked in to fill the kettle. “I’ll sort out some things later, if that’s okay for you.”

“Like?”

“We won’t need the wine and coffee.” He got out their assortment of tea. 

They had talked about it a bit and Tobirama had made very clear that he would stick threw the diet changes with her. No caffeine, no alcohol, no raw fish which meant they’d have to switch their sushi nights to something else.

Tobirama filled their cups. “No camembert either.”

“Why camembert?”

“Unpasteurised milk.” 

Right as Madara stared at the food in the oven, her phone rang. 

Tobirama sat by the table, glasses high on his nose and sorting through the papers and leaflets they had been handed by the gynaecologist, but he sat close to her phone and at her questioning look he glanced at the screen. 

Tobirama picked it up and handed it to her. “It’s Izuna.”

“Shit.” She was really not ready to talk to anyone, not even her favourite brother and especially not over the phone. Madara took it and picked up. “Hello?”

Tobirama had stilled and watched her just as Madara kept looking at him. Izuna sounded cheery, Shiomi whined in the background. “Hey, I just wanted to call and ask if Shiomi’s blanket is still over at yours.”

Madara sighed and dragged herself across the living room. “I’ll check.” 

Tobirama had cleaned up a bit, folded their blankets, fluffed their cushions and sorted the remotes back into the cupboard. No blanket in sight anywhere.

She went down the hallway and into the guest room, but she herself had peeled the used bedsheets from the kids’ blankets and thrown them into the washing baskets already so she would have noticed a forgotten blanket. “Not in the living room or kids’ room. Where did you see it last?”

“I didn’t at all, which is why I assumed it was in the bag already. Maybe the bathroom?”

“Maybe.” Madara groaned and checked their second bathroom, the one they had taken the kids to too. There, in an easy to oversee corner on the cupboard rested a hastily folded mint-green blanket with colourful animals. “Ah, found it.” 

“Nice, could I come over in ten and get it? She wants it and doesn't stop crying.”

Normally, Madara would have said yes without a second thought, but today she groaned and needed a moment to collect her thoughts. “Sure.”

Of course Izuna noticed. “Are you okay?”

Despite their three year age gap, Izuna was the one she got along with the best amongst her brothers. She used to tell him most things. Still did, even though they each had other people to confine in too.

“More or less.” Madara thought about it for a second. “Once you get here, will you have a moment to talk?”

“Yes, I’ll just take a longer lunchbreak. You’re scaring me a little, you know?”

“I’m not dying. Just get here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nîmes is a river in southern france and a popular holiday location for europeans.  
> Dieudonné(e) is a french name and actually means `given by god´, but don't worry, their kid will not have a weird name like this.
> 
> So, what do you think?  
> How do you think Izuna will react?  
> And baby name suggestions are welcome by the way. I'm terrible with those


	3. Clasp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your kind words and replys!!! I greatly appreciate all the comments and kudos!
> 
> I'm back from my holiday and just wrote this chapter with my new found relexation :D we shall see how long it lasts...

Izuna got there earlier. He had obviously hurried. 

Shiomi was fast asleep in a carrier, so after a tight hug and some chaste words of greeting they sat her down in the kitchen and took a seat themselves. The tea seeped on the countertop and their reheating lunch was somewhat forgotten still inside the turned off oven. 

Tobirama stilled in his preparations with salad leafs, washed his hands and sat down with them, all the while Izuna mustered them with concern. “So... enlighten me already.”

Tobirama and Madara shared a quick glance. They had talked about how to proceed with their families. To share happy news was easy enough, but in the event that they lost the baby, they would have to share that too. Madara loved her parents and brothers, the same went for Tobirama and his family, but this was more than deeply personal. This was something between herself and Tobirama that she wanted to come to terms with first and only then start involving others. 

That Izuna would find out now already... at least he was someone that could hold his silence and not grow overbearing. 

At her look, Tobirama pulled over the file with the documents and ultrasound pictures and slid them to her. Madara opened and got out one which she handed to Izuna who took it without a word, but a single raised eyebrow and concern written all over his expression. 

He looked at the image for a minute while the only sound remained sleeping Shiomi’s carrier. Eventually, Izuna looked up at Madara and then Tobirama and stared at the images again. “So… What am I seeing here? New cysts?”

There really was no less direct way to break this to him. “No, your niece or nephew.”

Izuna’s mouth fell open. He looked like the koi fish from their parents pond that he so dearly loved to feed. “Are you serious? You’re pregnant?”

Madara nodded. Tobirama remained silent, even as Izuna threw him the same astonished look of disbelieve. 

Izuna rubbed his eyes, then gaped at them again, which then turned into a grin and he almost jumped at Madara to hug her so hard, her shoulders ached. “How?! Did you have surgery and not tell me?”

“No, it just happened.”

“But how!?”

“Izuna, I hope you’re aware, because you made two children yourself.”

“Tse.” He pulled her in closer, more gentle than he normally would have when they roughhoused around, but seemed annoyed nonetheless. “You know what I mean.” He finally half released Madara, but only to grip Tobirama too and drag them from their chairs into a tight group hug. “I can’t believe this. You don’t seem that cheerful…”

Izuna and Tobirama were close friends like Hashirama and Madara. So Tobirama was allowed to swat his hand away and free himself from Izuna’s vicelike hold to distance himself and pull out the tea bags. “We just found out three hours ago.” 

“And the list of possible complications from miscarriage to rupturing ovarian cysts or bleeding, bowel perforation…” Madara was rudely interrupted.

“Okay, I get the picture. How long?”

“Eight weeks.” Tobirama threw in as he filled cups for them.

Izuna was already wearing a bright grin. “So your holidays must have been particularly delightful.”

Boy, Madara could be annoyed by him sometimes. “Do you want the details?”

“God no!”

“Sure? Because you’re being nosy.”

“I’m sorry. But please, don’t forget that overall this is incredibly joyous news, right? You should celebrate. Who are you planning to tell?”

Madara sighed. Izuna was not wrong, but the situation was more complex and it was hard to merely focus on the good. “We decided to keep it to ourselves for now. At least until we’ve come to terms with it. Or until we don’t feel like miscarriage is a plausible complication”

For now, there was no sign that the child inside her was fine. No kicking or movement she could feel to know that the baby was still alive so she had to trust that unless any unfamiliar symptoms occurred, her body was doing its job in keeping their child alive.

With every week the risk of miscarriage decreased. Should anything happen now, there was close to nothing her doctors could do to save their baby. 

Should they reach week 20 the chances of survival in case of a preterm labour would not be zero any longer. It was hard to think in timestamps like this. 

Maybe that would be a good time to tell their parents. 

Maybe they would wait till she showed.

Maybe they’d never get to deliver good news.

“Do you mind if I tell Asami?” His wife, the only person that probably knew more about him than even Madara or Tobirama.

“No, just don’t spill the tea to everyone before we had a chance to do it ourselves.”

Izuna stayed until Shiomi woke. He gave Madara a kiss on the cheek and Tobirama a hug and then he was gone.

Saturday morning they normally did their weekly grocery shopping. 

But when she woke long before Tobirama’s alarm, her body ached in the least satisfying yet familiar way. The sun hadn’t even come up yet, but as soon as Madara shifted on her side of the mattress to either curl up or stand and search for her heating pads (she was not entirely sure which one she preferred right now), Tobirama woke.

In the darkness of the room, the brightness of his hair still stood out as he turned to her and asked still sleepy. “Are you alright?”

He knew her so well. Just the sound that she made, vague and a little ailing and irritated, had him sit up enough to reach the bedside lamp. It was a soft, warm shine and it backlit Tobirama as he stood. 

Madara eventually heard his soft footsteps and felt his gentle fingers at the back of her head coaxing her to turn and take the offered glass of water and pain meds. 

Often enough, she was able to still her pain with those (and that was something she knew plenty of over women with this disorder were not able to, so she counted herself lucky) or even avoid some of it with running three times a week and staying healthy in general. 

(Hashirama as her jogging partner kept her fit, physically, because his longer legs meant she had to put in more effort to keep up, and mentally, because he got distracted and unless Madara stayed attentive, he would run into a tree or people or a car.)

This morning, her meds did nothing to ease the sting and even though it was a relatively mild episode, it still rendered her useless for the entire day. 

Her gynaecologist had explained that pregnancy could reduce symptoms of endometriosis. 

But it could also leave them just as before. But because of the pregnancy she could no longer take the heavy duty pain relief she might have taken in the past, so she might categorise the pain as more severe, because she would not be able to manage it.

Tobirama caressed her back as he covered her with another heavier blanket and gave her heated pads. 

He went to the shops on his own and brought her smoothies and soup and her favourite muesli, so she could choose which ever her stomach would take. Unsure of whether her nausea was morning sickness or a side-effect of endo (not that it mattered really, either way it was uncomfortable), he made her copious amounts of herbal and fruity tea too.

It was only once the three month mark passed that Madara noticed that she felt better.

Surprisingly so, a week had passed without the tell-tale feeling of twisting insides. And then another week passed. And another. And she had had blood tests and an ultrasound every second week, but everything came back good. (Tobirama still accompanied her to every single one of those.) The bleeding had ceased. The nausea stuck, but was easy to ignore.

Maybe her tolerance for inconveniences like this was high, because instead of careful anxious anticipation, she finally got to feel the bloom of happiness. 

Some early mornings, right after Tobirama’s alarm had gone off, she would lie in bed in the semi-darkness of the early hour and feel the outlines of her stomach. It was a small bump still, barely noticeable, but it was so mesmerising to rest her palm atop and feel it there were before she had nothing but her belly and fine incision scars from all sorts of surgeries.

Often enough, she would feel Tobirama’s weigh on the mattress shift before he would plaster himself against her back and nuzzle his head into her hair and neck to shield his sensitive eyes from the steadily rising sun. Tobirama’s hands on her skin would slowly caress (almost massage) her sides and eventually come to rest against her stomach too. 

There was no movement to feel yet, but still he would graze his fingers along her skin as if he was searching for something.

He would hum and pull her even closer into a one-armed embrace till she could feel his hardness press against her butt. It was not his way of enticing or pushing for anything, most mornings they only basked in the soft light of a rising sun until they eventually had to get up and get to work. 

Tobirama had always been different with her than with everyone else, entrusting, talkative and (to a certain extend) a sweet-talked. With her pregnancy that had not changed, but Tobirama had become even gentler, even more obliging. He now did most of the house work, did most of the shopping and cooking on his own insistence. 

Their best conversations usually happened in the evenings and weekends, curled against each other on the couch or bed, but as the birds sang outside their window and the noise of an early rush-hour lulled them in, Tobirama whispered against her nape and into the silence. “Do you think we should move out of the city?” 

“Mhm.” Madara had thought about it too, but not for long.

“We could move closer to our parents. Or Izuna and Hashirama. Or right in the middle.”

“I like our apartment.” It was theirs. They had bought it years ago and for a flat in the city it was fairly big and nice and still relatively close to their brothers’ and parents’ suburban garden-and-picked-fence-and-family-houses-neighbourhood. “And what if it doesn’t work out?”

But there was more to it too. To buy a house, move, dedicate and prepare a room and lose their child before it had a chance to even live there was something Madara did not want to do.

“We don’t have to buy anything, just look for properties or talk to the bank about a potential loan.” He was not wrong of course. While there was nothing wrong with raising a child in the city, both of them had come from a more spacious and calmer surrounding. Apparently they both would feel easier with having the same for their child too. “Eventually we could look further into real estate. We could rent out this place.” Of course Tobirama had put some actual thought into this.

“Let’s talk about this after we actually get a child to raise.”

“Okay.” Tobirama hummed and the sound was so low, it vibrated from his lips against her neck and down her spine as he pressed himself even closer with a deep inhale. “We should tell our parents too.”

Again, he was right. They had kept this from their families longer than was normal and Madara found herself avoiding phone calls or meet ups simply because the guilt and worry clashed. Lately, when she dressed, her dress pants barely fit anymore and Tobirama had noticed her foul mood when she had to go out and buy new dress shirts and pullovers and trousers. She had talked to her employer already and had been allowed to transfer most of her work into home office to avoid stress and to make her symptoms more manageable. 

She would not be able to hide her changing physical appearance much longer and rather than have her family splutter around because they thought she was simply gaining an (for her) extreme amount of weight despite her healthy diet and lifestyle, she’d rather come clean. 

“We should. My father will be insufferable, I hope you’re aware.”

“Well, my mother will be worse.” Tobirama nearly groaned. “And Hashirama will be the absolute peak of bliss and worry.”

“We’ll tell him last.”

For someone that found sex painful for the longest time, Madara was decidedly proactive about initiating it with Tobirama.

That night, they got home from work at the same time and met by the shoe rack at the entrance. Tobirama just decided to pull of his jacket and shoes in a way that made his pullover stretch across his shoulders and his trousers hug his bottom in a way that Madara found it hard to resist.

Sometimes in the past, sex had been painful. Her first time back in high school had definitely been way more than disappointing, because it had landed her in the ER with suspected appendicitis. (What a way to break the loss of her virginity to her parents. No that they initially cared when her then boyfriend called them from the ambulance as she shook and cried in pain.) 

That testing would find nothing wrong, but excessive growth where there was not supposed to be any had been a different sort of shock and relief. Because the diagnosis explained a lot. 

With Tobirama, it had always been different. 

After sleeping with him for the first time, Madara had questioned her choice in men before him. 

Others had had problems with understanding that she wanted to have sex, but that sometimes it was physically impossible for her to have it without being in agony. (Not even only penetration, the tension of muscles during an orgasm could be painful too.) Or that `stop´ meant literally stop, but not that she wanted to ruin the mood or criticise or reject him. Madara had never been shy to speak up for herself and she had dropped more than one bedpartner after they did not accept her boundaries.

None of that had ever happened with Tobirama. And only after a few weeks into their relationship did she notice that she no longer anticipated the pain or awkwardness or conflict, because with him and his attentive and gentle nature it seldom came. He was methodical and very observing. When he did not notice if she liked something, he asked right away. And true to his Tobirama-ness, he did more research into her condition than Madara thought a man could stand. 

And boy did it help that she finally felt relaxed and completely comfortable. That she would want to marry him she had known after about half a year of dating. 

When they made their drive out of the city for a Saturday lunch at her Madara’s parents’ house, she felt agitated more than usual. They had a car, but rarely used it and even though they did equal amounts of driving, Tobirama was the one who sat behind the wheel now and twitched with his fingers as the lights turned to green finally.

She had thought about simply dropping the bomb when her mother would inevitably offer them champagne or wine alongside, but Izuna had coaxed her to do something a bit more sensitive and special. Wrapped up in red wrapping paper, the `gift´ was stored deep down in their bag.

Her parents kept a picture wall. It was mostly adorned by wedding pictures of her and her brothers, her brother’s children, family pictures and graduations, random holiday pictures and the odd picture of themselves. They already had six grandchildren from three of her brothers, four girls and two boys, not all of them biological, but that had never mattered. 

So Madara had gotten more printouts from her latest ultrasound (the images were easily recognisable as a baby now) and Tobirama bought a nice picture frame. To Madara, it was obvious that this had not been her idea, but they would hardly care who had come up with the idea of this announcement once the news would settle in. 

Her mother greeted them at the door with hugs and sweet words and bright smiles. Madara was happy that she had dressed in a wider shirt and her new set of trousers. Not that her mother would ever bluntly comment on her figure, but the slight belly she had grown was something she herself had not fully gotten used to.

Tobirama and Shizuyo vanished into the kitchen immediately as they usually did, ready to taste-test and cook together a storm and Madara went to meet her father in the backyard where he was mowing the lawn. As if she had never moved out, she was put to work with seeds to refill the birdfeeders and eventually they set the table beneath a set of willow trees.

It was after they had eaten their vegetable casserole and sat with cold tea and her father’s homemade apple pie that Madara looked at Tobirama with a look he certainly knew how to interpret. He excused himself, went inside and came out with their gift and handed it over to Shizuyo. 

She stilled with her fork and took it with a surprised smile. It was Tajima who sent them an inquisitive look and a raised brow. “Did we forget a special occasion?”

“No, we just wanted to give this to you.” Madara took away their plates to allow her mother to place the gift in between them on the table. 

“Hn.” Tajima took the box and shook it gently, but nothing rattled, but he remained suspicious until Shizuyo cleaned a cake knife on a napkin to slide through the sticky tape.

All of this took way to long and while Tobirama may have the patience of a saint when it came to most sort of situations (not all, he could grow aggravated in a split second when it came to his brothers’ antics), Madara clicked her tongue and stared at them. “Just open it.” 

Tajima opened the ribbon. The paper folded open almost on its own, but the white box they had placed the frame inside was still closed. 

Shizuyo opened it and Tajima lifted the frame so she could look at it alongside him. 

Somewhere next door was mowing the lawn, birds called, but overall the neighbourhood was calm.

Madara glanced at Tobirama as the silence prolonged and beneath the mask of reserved calm she saw his excitement, but then something in her mother’s face changed rapidly from confused politeness to disbelief and she rose suddenly to stare at Madara. “Are you kidding me?” 

Tajima nearly upheaved the table as he rose too. “You’re pregnant?!”

Madara nodded and could not even say anything before she found herself whisked up into a tight hug almost immediately. Her mother screamed in her ear. “No way!”

Her father was more careful, but even he pulled her shoulders. “Really?”

“This is not something we would lie about.” She said dryly, but there was no sting in her words, because they were not directed to sound harsh. 

As Madara had correctly predicted, her father started fussing immediately and then he went to raid their old storage in the basement for Madara’s old toys and baby clothing she could pass on. It was rather sweet, but it took a lot of gentle back rubs from Tobirama to get her to get past the nervous excitement.

What she had not predicted was her mother’s tears and her questioning hands that obviously wanted to touch her barely existing baby bump. Madara did not particularly mind, but she did not find it particularly comfortable as well. 

Maybe there was a better way to manage her happy yet sappy parents. She had to ask Izuna.

Her parents in law, similar to her own parents, already had a number of grandchildren. Hashirama had two daughters and a son, Kawarama had a daughter and a son too. When Tobirama and Madara dropped by unannounced, Butsuma and Hisae were busy with holiday planning.

A week prior, Hisae had complained that her favourite mug (some flower design from a local ceramic producer) had lost its handle. So Tobirama had gotten both of them a new set from the same brand and alongside a card.

Madara leaned against the countertop, arms crossed as she watched Tobirama set down their `present´. Hisae was one to take the card first and open the envelope. She read and then furrowed her brows.

Butsuma was still missing his reading glasses. “What does it say?” 

“That we’re going to be grandparents… I don’t understand, did you finally buy a cat?” Before Tobirama had a chance to frown and negate, Hisae inhaled sharply. “Or have you decided to adopt?”

A glance at Tobirama revealed that he was more than a little agitated. “No. Madara is pregnant.”

She dropped the card to clasp the countertop. “What?”

“Are you kidding me?” Butsuma sounded like they had presented him with the moon landing all over again.

“No, we’re being very serious.” And they were pulled into even more hugs.

It was that following week, when the bleeding started that they grew really concerned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't know what endometriosis is: inform yourself!
> 
> If you think you might have it: talk to a medical specialist! 
> 
> Honestly, there is nothing more important than knowing stuff like this about your body and even though you might feel anxious or awkward calling a gynacologist (trust me, I did for the longest time), please just do it, because it is very normal for someone with a uterus/vagina of reproductive age to go see one frequently! If you feel weird with your doctor, find one you trust more!
> 
> But then again: I'm not a medical professional and you should take any advice (on the internet or not) regarding your health from someone that is not very lightly :) 
> 
> Stay well guys!


	4. Good to be us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter to resolve the cliff hanger of the last one and a lot happens. 
> 
> Again, I'm not a medic, so whatever medical advice I write might be laced with faults. I tried to do a lot of research and the like, but should you notice something that's off, please tell me so I can correct it!
> 
> A lot of FLUFF! Enjoy!

It was when the bleeding started that following week that they grew really concerned. 

In their second guest room, which they had turned into a makeshift office, Madara had been in and out of telephone conferences all day. It was when after hours of sitting, she went to the kitchen for a lunch break that it started. 

Pure luck that she decided to use the bathroom before reheating her vegetable lasagne, because suddenly there was a surprising amount of blood on her trousers, more like a period than the light spotting she had grown used to, but utterly alarming in the context.

Tobirama was at work, but had his emergency phone on him at all times, so he answered after the first ring. “Hello, are you alright?”

“No.” Despite how they had been almost expecting something bad like this to happen, her throat closed nonetheless and it took a couple of controlled breathes to form the words. “I think I’m having a miscarriage. I think you should come home.”

“Okay, I’m on my way. Have you called your doctor?” Lucky for them that in moments of utmost panic, Tobirama sometimes drifted into a state of focus and calm, which sometimes drover her up a wall, but right now it was exactly how she had needed him to react. 

“I’ll do that now.”

Her doctor’s office answered after the third ring and the assistant was kind enough to forward her to her doctor immediately. This could very well be a late miscarriage and there would be nothing they could do to stop it, but what she was more concerned about were the other possible problems this could hint at that were very well treatable. 

So she told her to go to the hospital. And she called Tobirama who was on his way in a taxi. 

Tobirama arrived, disarranged and worried. Madara had redressed and he drove her to the hospital.

Sixteen weeks, nearly four months complete and the hospital’s maternity ward was not where Madara had liked to find herself at that point. 

Several people start doing things around her at the same time, while Tobirama had attached himself to her shoulder like a leech. Only one person at a time could explain what they were doing and Madara really did not like to be kept in the dark. Blood was drawn, a monitor placed on her stomach and everyone stilled for a second, but there was nothing to break them from their frozen state.

Because there was no heartbeat aside hers.

A moment of honest panic and she felt Tobirama’s hand grasp her shoulder so much it hurts, but then the beat started. And the doctors and nurses started their frenzy anew, but visibly relieved. 

“What happened?” Tobirama asked into the room. Someone wheeled over an ultrasound machine. Someone got a towel and gel.

“Your baby was probably hiding in the back.” The doctor said and then she went on to read several numbers and lines and talk to someone about something. Then she shifted around cables and things and soon enough cold gel and an ultrasound screen was turned so Madara and Tobirama could see the image too.

The doctor started measuring things, noting down others, zooming in at something and Madara was not sure what was happening until she spoke. “We can safely assume that this is not a late or a threatened miscarriage. You may have developed a subchorionic hematoma though, which means that there is ablood cloth between the placenta and the uterine wall.” She pointed at something, barely more than a dark spot. “Is this something you were diagnosed with during the first trimester?”

Not a miscarriage was the first thing Madara heard and it was a relief she phyiscally felt. “No, is that something unusual?” 

The doctor nodded, then shifted the image and instead black sickel like spot they saw a hand and a foot. “Not entirely, no. I know you didn’t mention it too, but sometimes patients forget, especially when it was a small hematoma that cause nearly no problems. And this one is relatively small, which is good. You go in for regular check-ups anyway, right?”

“Every second week.” They had given them a quick overview of her conditions and surgeries, of course, so the doctor knew that she was closer to a high risk pregnancy than anyone wanted to be.

“Good. We’ll monitor this further for now and you should go to your doctor and have her take a good look at this too, but here is nothing we can do to treat it. However it can be managed very well and unless anything changes drastically, this should not cause you further complications.” She took a paper, noted down something else and then waved over a nurse to hand her the sheet. “I’ll talk to a colleague. He specialises in endometriosis and I’d like to see whether there could be a problem in considering a progestogen administration to help avoid a miscarriage, but you’re further along than patients we would normally consider it for anyway and the hematoma is very small, so we might wait and see first. No strenuous activities, heavy lifting, stress and the like though and then this might very well self-resolve over the next weeks.”

Tobirama glanced at her, pressed her shoulder and then asked. “Which complications are the most plausible?”

“That heavily depends on how the hematoma would worsen.” She seemed hesitant to tell them at first. Maybe she did not want to cause them additional worry, maybe she wanted to measure her words the most sensitive possible. “It could mean that the baby will be small for gestational age or cause a preterm labour, which can be easily managed and does not need to cause further complications by itself. With how small this is, I’d lean out of the window and say miscarriage or placental abruption are unlikely, so please, for now don’t grow anxious, even if the bleeding continues for days or weeks that does not mean that any of these are happening.” 

She wheeled back, opened a drawer and pulled out a few leaflets of information that she handed to them. “Should you feel significant or unfamiliar pain or heavier bleeding, please come in immediately though.” She mustered the screen, then a small smile tucked on her lips. “Do you know the baby’s gender?”

Well that question came as a surprise. The tension from before had not yet vanished and they were still to strung high to even hide how taken aback they were.

They shared a look and then Tobirama answered. “No.” 

At the last screening, they had been asked whether they wanted to know too, but even at sixteen weeks the accuracy was low. And it was not as if it mattered. So they had decided to wait until a certain declaration could be made at a later appointment. 

The doctor took a screen shot, then turned to them. “Would you like to know now?”

“How sure are you?” 

“Very sure. Of course there is still room for error, but as I see it now I’d say I can make a pretty accurate detection.”

Madara looked at Tobirama. 

It was her who eventually turned back to the woman. “Okay.”

And then she switched pictures so they could see better which moment she had screenshotted. “Not often do we get such a good image of external sex organs. Please ask your gynaecologist to confirm this during your next check-up, but you’ll most likely have a tiny baby boy.”

A son.

And her gynacologist conformed it during their next appointment.

Not that it mattered. Their only wish had been and still was for this baby to stay alive and healthy. Everything else was irrelevant and of no integrial value to the person their child would grow into. 

“I can’t believe that you told everyone else before me.” Hashirama was slouched on their couch, tea cup in hand and very much pouting. Yuuma, Hashirama’s eldest daughter, was playing behind the couch, loud enough that if Madara hadn’t know she was attempting a puzzle, she’d assumed she was murdering her plush dinosaur.

Madara sat at the couch opposite him and had her arms crossed and was already tired out from Hashirama’s antics. “You even told Itama and he is camping somewhere in the Nepalese outback. He is on an alpine track with barely any internet and you told him before me.” 

Not even his toddler son was pouting as miserable as he was, and that kid was the spitting image of his father and only his eyes and personality to tell that somewhere Mito was also involved in his making. 

“It was not intentional.” It sort of had been, but not really. Itama had incidentally called after their visit to their parents and so they had told him. “And I mean, it’s sort of obvious, isn’t it?” Madara pointed at her belly. 

With one of her old pullovers that before would have been a bit on the larger side and now was tight, it honestly should have been obvious. Then again, Hashirama could have been just polite enough to not point it out, but that was simply not who he was. 

Polite he was, but it normally was plain obvious to everyone that knew him when something was puzzling him. And her belly must have puzzled him at some point at least.

“Yeah and I sort of noticed…” He sighed and took a sip only to burn his tongue. “But not really, you could have just gained a bit of weight and nowadays you’re always wearing those floaty shirts and pullovers and such.” He waved at her vaguely, but sank lower into the cushions. 

Suddenly he sat up and pointed a finger at Tobirama who was lounging on the floor with Hashirama’s son Teruma and daughter Eshima. They were looking at a picture book, one of the ones Madara knew by heart, because she had to read it so often with her nieces too. “You’ll have to let me name him to make up for this.”

“No.” Tobirama said, without even looking up from the book. The two toddlers, barely three and four were giggling and snuggling into his lap, tucking at the hem of his shirt. They could be more energetic then they were right now, but Hashirama had been to the park with them before he decided to drop in at theirs.

“There is always someone that will be informed last no matter the news and this time it happened to be you.” Madara gave Hashirama an unimpressed glare. “You’re the first one to know that it’s going to be a boy though.”

“I called you the night we found out Mito was pregnant and you waited two months.”

“You know why we waited to break the news and to be frank, I find it offending that you seem to not even consider those.” And Tobirama sounded angry, not angry enough to alert any of the children that clung to his arms and laughed over something they found in their book, but accompanied by the glare, it was a clear enough message for Hashirama who instantly drew in his head.

He mumbled an apology, then had to stand and collect his upset daughter who had been scared by a spider that ran from under their couch and while he consoled her, Madara decided that it was time to change the topic.

The fourth month ended with her doing everything carefully and Tobirama doing all the heavy lifting and housework.

Madara still worked from home, but choose to take longer breaks and apply for early maternity leave. 

Instead of running, she had started a habit of taking walks accompanied by Tobirama, Hashirama or Izuna after dinner to the park three streets away and Tobirama, good man that he was, did not comment or say anything, when she brought along snacks in case she grew hungry despite having had a good sized meal. He bought her the crackers she had found to like (even though she despised them before her pregnancy) and made sure to keep a steady supply of fruit and vegetable chunks to munch on.

Also, she had never felt less fit in her life, because she got out of breath from walking up the stairs to their flat. The heart burn she had from time to time wasn’t the most pleasant thing either. And swollen feet, the ultimate pregnancy cliché, had her more shuffling than walking. 

Since her normal pain had been nearly gone and the bleeding had thankfully ceased, she had gone out more often again too. With Tobirama to the shops for groceries or to the cinema with Izuna, with her parents to visit this one restaurant they had wanted to try for ages or Tobirama and their siblings to family dinner.

Since she had started to get to this phase of looking `most-likely-pregnant-and-not-merely-overweight´, strangers had started to comment which she was entirely not used to. 

The other day, a woman with a hyperactive toddler and a bigger baby bump had smiled at her at the streetlight and started small talk like they were part of a secret club. A cashier at the shops had congratulated her and asked for the due date. 

Madara had never been overly sociable, but never unfriendly, but the approaches often took her so by surprise that she found herself unsure how to answer. She briefly considered asking her sister-in-law whether this was something normal, something universal to pregnant people, but she strained from it. Instead she ranted to Tobirama on how uncomfortable it made her. 

The start of the fifth month was when Madara started to actually feel pregnant. She certainly looked more like it, but where before she had been able to ignore it now and again, to even sometimes forget about her fragile carriage was no option any longer. 

The reality hit her one peaceful Saturday as Tobirama and she were in the car at night in the middle of nowhere. It had snowed and because of the late hour, most country roads were covered by undisturbed white. 

There were streetlamps ever so often, illuminating soft flakes of white that dangled in the air as they passed in their warm and safe car. Just the two of them in a deep conversation about Christmas presents and whether to buy a tree and only the streaks of light from the passing street lights as a witness to them softly humming along to an old christmas song on the radio.

They had just visited Kawarama and his husband whose house was in one of the smaller villages further away from the city and they were on their way back, when suddenly Madara felt something in her shift. Very light, but definitely there and she was happy to not be the driver because the speed with which she set both her hands to the spot she had felt the movement in, they might have left the road if she had had to steer the car.

Tobirama noticed her sudden shock of course and hit the brakes harder than was strictly necessary or advisable for a vacant, snowy street in the middle of a field. “What happened?”

Her pullover was thick but lose so it lifted easily so she could feel the skin beneath better. “I think he moved.”

Tobirama’s eyes widened and he reached over to slot his hand alongside hers and they stilled for a second, but nothing happened. She did not even care that her skin eventually grew a little cold where it was not covered by Tobirama’s big hands or her clothing.

They had waited for this. 

During the last appointment her doctor had confirmed that their child was a boy and that the hematoma had gotten smaller. But when her doctor had asked her if she had been able to feel his movements yet, Madara had negated. 

During a first pregnancy plenty of woman were not able to feel them this early so there was no reason to worry, her doctor had explained.

But ever since they had sort of waited for something to happen. And here they sat, staring at each other with awe and listening into the stillness that felt very static as they concentrated to feel for the smallest fluttering.

He took his hand from her stomach eventually, but reluctantly and only to park the car on a small sidewalk to not pose a danger in the middle of the road.

Then they sat there and waited. Radio turned low so it was only a soft mumble in the background.

The longer they sat with the head lights turned off, streetlights further away and only the small inside light between them the more stars appeared on the sky.

“What did it feel like?” Tobirama eventually asked, still one hand on her. 

“Like a very light brush.”

He wore that expression he got when he was increasingly frustrated by something. “Do you think I could feel it if he did it again?”

“I’m not sure, it really was very light.” The idea that it could have been something else, like her stomach, had crossed her mind, but only briefly, because this had felt very different to a hungry rumble. 

“I think we should drive home. I don’t want to sit in a car seat all night.”

There was no guarantee that it would happen again anyway. 

“Yeah, just…”Tobirama groaned and then sighed, but he felt alongside her hands a little longer. “Was it closer to the sides or the front?” Of her belly, he meant. “And was it more like a hand or a foot?”

“Could have been his head too, for all I know.” Madara took his wrist and stirred it on top of where she had felt the brush. “Here, but it was…”

A flutter. And then another.

And then a stronger push, more like something poking her skin from the inside and Tobirama’s eyes nearly popped out, so he must have felt it too. His second hand came up to feel too and they said nothing as they waited for it to happen again, a little dumbstruck and a little amazed.

The idea that their child was growing inside of her had been abstract for the longest time. With ultrasound images and her growing bump to verify, but this… Yes, this was very much really happening, Madara thought. 

This was different.

And Tobirama was deeply mesmerised. His eyes glinted and were blown wide, his jaw and shoulders tense, but in a way that Madara knew him to be when hyper focused. His fingers softly pressed against her skin alongside her own hands.

Again, Madara felt something like a long brush and tumbling and inhaled sharply and stared at the patch of her stomach where it had been. “He might be…turning? I feel more inside than my hands can feel on the outside.”

Tobirama looked truly remorseful. “I wish I could feel that too.” 

And then leaned over, which was really not that easy for someone this tall in a convined space like this, and he gave her a kiss first and then her stomach. Their child could probably not feel it, it was that light, but he pressed his cheek against her skin for a moment. 

At first, nothing happened, but then a feeling like small waves or bubbles brushed against Madara’s insides and she actually could not help but break into a grin. “Not sure if you felt it, but he answered.”

Judging by the choked sound he made, he must have felt something. 

And it was suddenly tangible. This child of theirs.

It was no longer just the two of them. 

And to have him safe and warm and nicely hidden inside her, between them almost, felt blissfully like a new sort of love. And probably it was.

This child was very much theirs, because it could not be still for an hour at a time and was eager to express strong opinions with very light kicks that eventually grew stronger. He had impeccable aim too, as often as he tapped at her bladder or kidney or ribs. 

Madara grew accustomed to sometimes stopping in her tracks to tap back in this silent dispute of theirs. 

She found herself constantly speaking to their baby too, regardless of whether she was alone or Tobirama was around. As often as she wanted to tell him to behave (not that you could teach a foetus manners), she could not be mad, because the comfort of feeling their son move was enough to get through the small painful stabs. So she listed their shopping list to him or told him of his uncles or what she would like to cook for dinner.

At night as they talked about this and that, Tobirama would either caress her stomach with his fingers or he would gently tap alongside a rhythm he had stuck in his head. Sometimes they rested with her stomach pressed against his, so he could try and imagine what the movement felt like for her. (It was not an accurate representation, but it made Tobirama happy.)

At first, Tobirama was only able to feel half of the movement, and every time he noticed her pause or twitch or grimace during the day, he would ask how it felt. The few movements he felt had him glued to her side every time and had him almost tear up whenever their small, tiny son `responded´ to hearing his voice or to his taps.

“Our own innocent addiction.” Tobirama would sometimes joke. And it was sort of true, because while they had a very active baby already, they always wished for more movement. Another tap, another roll, another sign that he was still alive and well and growing within her.

“How about this one?” Tobirama turned his screen and Madara stared at another picture of another house somewhere Tobirama had identified as their `perfect location of habitation´. A neighbourhood in one of the city’s suburbs somewhere between their parents and brothers, with good public transport and schools and kindergartens and a lake close by, but not too far from their places of work. 

It sounded like something only found in fantasy. And the prices sure made that clear too. But they made decent money and had for quite a while to feel comfortable enough to afford it and Madara had talked with their bank and they could get a loan. 

Even though she had said that she did not want to start looking for houses until they actually had a child that was alive and well, they had ended up in the living room on a snowy Sunday morning, looking at real estate agent’s websites. 

“Send it to me.” She mumbled. They were making a list of the best options. True to his nature, Tobirama had started grading the houses they found in different categorise and started working through the pros and cons.

Maybe, they were getting a little ahead of themselves. There were still four more months and labour to get through until they could know for sure if this was a good idea.

And maybe it was nice to finally start thinking ahead into a possible future that with every passing week seemed more and more likely to actually happen. 

So suddenly, an idea struck.

“Which names do you like?” She asked casually.

Tobirama looked up, his glasses sat low atop his nose. “In general?” 

Madara rolled her eyes at him and leaned further back into the couch cushions. “No, what could you imagine calling your son.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have found the name for their precious boy, but if you have any more suggestions, please drop them in the comments!  
> For those of you that already left me some: thank you! <3


	5. Take it or leave it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, the name reveal! 
> 
> Folks, you don't want to know how much time I spent looking for one I found fitting or that seemed reasonable.  
> Especially since I don't speak Japanese and had some research to do on how names are choosen and made and whatnot, so here is my take on that. (if something is a little inaccurate, please tell me or just see it as creative freedom)
> 
> Thanks to Ironpen who suggested a lot of good ones and I had one of those in my closer consideration, but then while I was showering a scene popped up in my head and I went with it. 
> 
> (I'm actually really nervous if you find the name fitting or okay, so please tell me!)
> 
> I hope you like it:D so much FLUFF jfyi!

Friday night came and another `family dinner´ at Hashirama’s rolled around and it was about as exhausting as Madara had expected.

So when Saturday morning came and Tobirama was about to leave for another `gown party´, as Tobirama and his colleagues called these monthly sessions spent in the lab working all weekend, Madara felt like her brain was ascending to the next realm without her.

At least, the aura her migraine was producing was colourful enough to have her distrust her senses.

She laid on the couch, her eyes covered by a cool towel and her hair an absolutes bird’s nest. Not even on her back she could lie any longer, instead she was turned towards the back of the couch and pressed her face into the cushion. Tobirama shuffled in, a bit hurried, half dressed for work. 

Even though Tobirama’s young subordinates Koharu, Hiruzen and Torifu ironically started to call their weekend experiments `sleepover´ instead, Tobirama was not wearing a pyjama and there was little sleep to be done when almost all test procedures needed to be timed, done in accord and in quick succession. And they would not even stay the entire night, just longer than usual.

“How is your head?” His cold hand came to rest on her forehead and as he wanted to draw it back, Madara grabbed his wrist and kept it there until it was no longer cooling. 

“Bad. You’re walking too loud.” Tobirama was even wearing his slippers, but her brain felt like it would vibrate out of her skull. “Now leave. You’re already late.”

“Doesn’t matter. I might be the supervisor, but they can get started without me. Is there anything I can bring you?”

She growled irritated, but he seemed to read something into her voice.

“Water it is.” Tobirama sighed, gently drew his hand back and set something down on their coffee table. Then he left, apparently trying to walk more silently. He must have reached the kitchen already because his footsteps were soft.

A sudden urge caught her, so Madara turned her head to look after him. “Do we have mustard?” 

He reappeared, glass in hand and a look of cautious confusion. “Yes?” 

“Good, bring that and an apple too. Sliced. And a spoon.” 

Someone that did not know him as well as Madara, might not have been able to see that Tobirama’s face went through all stages of grief in less than a second. He probably bemoaned her taste buds. A slight twitch in his eye lid, a frown and then the release of tension in his jaw as acceptance set in. “As you wish. Do you want cabbage juice with that?”

“Ha. Ha.” She deadpanned and threw him a glare that Izuna still flinched under whenever it was directed at him. “You’re responsible for this too. Who do you think helped putting this kid inside me…huh?”

“Sorry.” He brought her a plate with apple slices, the mustard jar and a spoon. “Text me if you want anything else. I can stop at a shop on my way back. Call me if anything happens.”

“You’re team will uninvited me from the lab’s Christmas party if I ruin your progress like that.” Tobirama was about to protest, but Madara cut him off. “Don’t worry, I’ll call if I’m dying and otherwise, that log you call a brother wanted to come over tonight.”

“He’s gonna force you to watch that movie.”

“I know. Now leave, they’ll either assume I’m murdering you or fucking your brains out, neither of which would be helpful for them.” 

“I know which one I’d prefer.” Tobirama murmured. In contrast to her words, Madara grabbed his shirt and pulled him down into a kiss, one that lasted longer than it should have if she really intended to have him hurry.

Tobirama eventually pulled away, kissed her nose and cheek. 

“Go.” She growled and almost shoved him, not hard enough to be mean, but he laughed into her ear, then gave her a quick kiss to the forehead. “I’ll see you tonight.”

She’d probably be asleep already when he showed up. “Be quiet when you get back or I might have a sudden longing to send you to the corner store to buy ice-cream.” 

A week before Christmas, they sort of stumbled over his name. 

They had thought about names, not really searched, simply thought of those that came to mind as fitting, but until now nothing had stuck. They had time left still, but now at almost 24 weeks, even if she went into preterm labour, he had a chance to survive. 

Out in the shops all week with Tobirama and Hashirama for Hashirama’s last-minute-gift shopping, Tobirama and her had been stopped and congratulated several times. (Luckily for them, she was actually pregnant, because otherwise she might have actually taken offense.)

The conversations, and especially the questions, were all pretty much the same, but with a big lead ahead one question was the most frequently asked. “So, when are you due?”

And the vague answer they had sort of fallen into that did not give away too much, which made Madara more comfortable, was “we’re hoping for early spring”. 

And that was the truth more than Madara wanted to admit to herself. Her due date was around the 8th April. Spring would start of the 21th March, which was about the start of her 37th week. If she went into labour after the start of spring, the baby would no longer be born premature. So, yes, they were hoping for a spring baby, even though the chance of her going into preterm labour were high.

Madara was chopping carrots one night that same week while Tobirama was swiping the floor when a fierce kick got her bladder again. Several small kicks or strokes, she had grown used to his movements, but they still could make her pause and bend over a little. “Boy, he’s at it again.” 

Tobirama's feet shuffled over and his fingers came to intertwine with her own hand on top of her stomach. “Training for the Olympics?”

Her feet hurt, her heart burnt and this morning she had noticed the first stretchmarks on her skin, so she was not in a great mood already. “Our baby better starts respecting his vessel or I might be tempted to pop him out right now. I swear, his kicks actually hurt.” 

Tobirama laughed a little sympathetically. “Mhm, so more of a `hope for winter´ than a `hope for spring´?” He said, but it did not sound serious, because he was smiling like a big sap. “I think he is more a Kiharu than a Kito.” [`Ki´ as in hope, `haru´ as in spring, `to´ as in winter]

“Well, then tell him to calm down or I might have to overrule you on this one.” She felt guilty for even saying it right away. It was not meant as harsh as it sounded and she did not seriously hope that their son would be born prematurely in winter, far the opposite really. She wanted him healthy. 

Tobirama sank to his knees and held her stomach, softly kissed it and then leaned against it with his cheek. As if he had listened to them, the next movement was a gentle probing stroke against Tobirama’s face which had him smile even wider. “See? More Kiharu than Kito.”

“We’ll see. Kiharu better behave then.” 

The next morning she woke to the feeling of their son climbing a jungle gym within her. It was not unusual, just distracting, which was why Tobirama noticed right away and lifted a questioning brow. 

“He is determined to be more Kito today.”

He hummed, inched closer to her and pulled her into a hug. His fingers were a little cold when they touched the skin on her stomach. “Kiharu, you gotta stop hurting your mother.”

His finger were gentle in their massage, Madara closed her eyes. “It is probably not his fault. Probably just some of the scar tissue that is sensitive.” 

“Do you think a bath while be soothing?”

Madara opened one eye. “Him or me?”

“Preferably both of you.”

Out in the park by the lake they stood on the 22nd December and watched some of their nieces and nephews ice-skating. They had brought warm tea and were wrapped in scarfes and gloves. Nonetheless they were holding hands at the edge of the frozen lake underneath a set of leafless trees. It was as they were eating caramelised almonds that Madara remebered something she had thought about a couple of times that week. “You know, Kagami hasn’t called in a while. Do you think he’s staying in the dorms over Christmas?” 

Tobirama hummed, then shook his hand and popped an almond in his mouth. “I have a feeling we’ll find him head first in our fridge tomorrow or the day after.” 

“I hope it’s not because of Kiharu that he feels like he cannot come and bother us any longer.”

Now Tobirama looked at her and her concerned expression, so he raised her hand to press a kiss onto the back of her glove. “He was so excited when you told him. I think he is just busy, he texted me last week.” Tobirama sighed. “In the middle of the night and in panic, because of his impending exam. I think he is just very busy rightnow.”

Madara sighed and shot a glance onto the lake as Hashirama had laughed out loud and found him seated on the ice with his daughter climbing all over him. “We should probably prepare the guestroom then.”

So, yeah, between the two of them, who actually, earnestly started calling her bump Kiharu, Madara did not remember, only that it stuck. 

When she accidentally did it in front of Hashirama he almost started crying and then proceeded to throw a tantrum. “You guys know that you’re breaking Senju-tradition right? You have to add a kanji for `ma´.” He was flailing on their couch now, warm berry juice and destroying one cookie after another. Tobirama was airing the room, so he stood by the windows and Madara could see his shoulders shake in a silent laugh.

“We haven’t even decided on the name yet.” Madara said and stared her best friend down. 

But then Tobirama whipped his head around. “We haven’t?”

What.

“No?” Madara stared at him incredulous. He had to be joking, but his eyes said something different. “Have we even had a talk about this?”

Hashirama had gone silent, his jaw frozen in a bite and he threw glances between them, but Madara was more focused on Tobirama anyway. Because her husband had turned and was biting his lip which he only did when he was unsure how to break something to her. “No, but we have been calling him Kiharu all week.”

It was not that she did not like the name. Tobirama was not wrong, Madara had simply not noticed how used they had gotten to calling him Kiharu. And, really, there was nothing wrong with that. It was a nice name, good straightforward kanji too, but maybe she had expected to have more of a search, of a brainstorm or to first assemble a list. “Well, it started more as a joke. `Hope for spring´, `hope for winter´… you know...”

Tobirama closed the window, then turned and his fingers fidgeted while he shifted a little unsure. He had gotten cautious and Madara mustered his gaze. He was probably laying out his words. “I’m not sure I could think of him as anyone else by now…”

“You’re being serious right now?”

“Do I seem anything but?”

Hashirama had drawn his head in, but peak up now, a little nervous to get between them. “I mean, it is a nice name, just add another kanji for `ma´ and voilà. Three kanji isn’t even all that uncommon anylonger.”

Both of them stared at him till he lifted his hands in surrender and sank deeper into their couch.

“We can think about it, we don’t need to decide right now.” Tobirama said.

“Yeah.” But, Tobirama was right, every other name she could think of simply sounded wrong, like she was talking of someone else. She eventually sighed. “Kiharu it is for now. We can keep our eyes open if anything else pops up.”

Tobirama came over and set on her couch, but at the other end. His hand came up to rub his face and that was the second Madara knew he had something else ready to say. And those were words she'd never thought she'd hear coming out of his mouth. “Hashirama has a point however. My parents might actually want us to keep up Senju tradition.”

She groaned. “Not you too.”

“Obviously it is our joined decision, but I'd say Kiharuma does not sound that bad.”

“And use `ma´ as in horse or what are you getting at? Oh, no! I forgot, there is one kanji reading `ma´ meaning demon too?”

Tobirama sighed exasperated. “`Ma´ as in jewel would be better.”

“Perfect!” Hashirama clapped, but another glare from his brother and he was silent. 

Madara crossed her arms. “He is not a jewel, he is a child.”

Now Tobirama laughed, but as she lifted her foot to give him a poke with her toes (gentle, more as a sign that he was being rude), he stopped. “Love, and I'm not the space between two doors, but... We could still call him Kiharu, his full name could be more a formality.”

“You Senjus. You know, I could go and demand we name him after Uchiha tradition. Fuji Uchiha, how does that sound, hn?” It was only half serious. While her siblings and Izuna’s daughters were sort of loosely following the idea to losely base their names on mountain names, most of her family members had steered from that path long ago. It was more to make a point.

Hashirama scrunched his nose. “Horrible. By the way, whose last name are you choosing anyway?”

Oh no. And with that innocent question, he had opened an entire new topic of discussion they hadn’t even considered a problem yet. The pandora's box of expecting-parent's-quarrels.

They eventually threw Hashirama out to talk in peace.

And by the end of a logical and reasonable talk (at some point, they had honestly considered just throwing a dice to choose at random), they decided that it was fair that if the Senju side got their `ma´, their son's last name should be Uchiha to make it even, so Kiharuma Uchiha it would be.

Of course, Madara was invited to the annual Christmas party at her office even though she hadn’t been there in several weeks. That she was very visibly pregnant probably only helped fire up their assumptions of her private life.

As every year, it was funny watching the younger and new colleagues stare at her husband. From her subordinates she knew that people usually assumed she was too `tough´ or `prickly´ for her marriage to be `normal´, so they either assumed that her spouse was bigger and scarier than her or they assumed her partner to be her lapdog.

What probably surprised them was that Tobirama was a notorious overachiever and very good at multitasking. So, of course he managed to be both at the same time. He was her perfectly charming and very loyal (he stuck by her side through all awkward conversations) trophy husband (arm candy, one could say) who got her drinks and held her plate. And yet he still managed to tower over the crowd and discreetly stare everyone into submission that even thought about touching her stomach without asking first.

The Christmas party at Tobirama’s lab was usually a little less formal. Koharu, Torifu and Hiruzen gave her a petri dish with a fungal culture (they swore it was not harming) plated to spell out `Merry Christmas and Congratulations on the inseminated ovum´ which Madara gladly handed over to Tobirama to have it thrown away. The rest of his colleagues usually found her incredibly funny, just because most of them probably only ever got to experience Tobirama as anything but an overworking-genius when she was present.

The 23th December came and Tobirama decorated while Madara was busy commentating the horribly Christmas movie they had put up on the television. 

The holiday usually went like this: On Christmas Eve, Madara’s birthday, they went to celebrate with her side of the family at her parents’ house and on Christmas Day, they went to Tobirama’s parents for the Senju family’s celebration.  
This year was no different.

The morning of Christmas Eve which was also her birthday, Madara woke to Tobirama’s gentle back massage and because there really was no hurry to get up, they enjoyed themselves.

Later, while Madara took a shower, Tobirama was preparing breakfast, which included a cake which he (same as every year) managed to hide from her and then the doorbell rang. There was no way she would have jumped out of the shower to open the door, pregnant or not, she had shampoo all over her hair and Tobirama could entertain whatever family member thought to surprise her on her birthday.

She towelled herself off and put on comfortable clothing. She was still wrapping up her hair when she went to their living area. They had a very realistic looking fake christmas tree and lamps to set up on their windowsills that Tobirama found ugly, but Madara had gotten from Izuna and could not throw out. “Tobira, who was at the-”

And then she was ambushed. “Aunti Mads!” 

To be fair, Kagami was careful, but he hugged her like a boa constrictor nonetheless, a dripping wet one at that. His luggage was by the entrance still, his hair a windblown mess, snowflakes all over his coat, yet he was smiling so brightly. He was just that little bit taller than her so she had to look up. “Happy Birthday.”

He smirked sheepishly as she ushered him to take off his jacket and have it hung by their radiator in the kitchen where it could drip on tiles without damaging their wooden floor. “You should’ve called.”

He turned red and ruffled his hair in embarrassment, specks of water flung around. “Ah, sorry. I wanted to surprise you, but if I’m inconvenient I can go and bother-”

Tobirama snorted, but was still taking care of pans and pots of breakfast food. “What she means is that we could have gotten you from the train station and prepared the guestroom.” 

“Tobira, get the boy some tea. Sorry, we don’t have any more coffee, unless you want instant?” 

Kagami pulled in his head and Madara got the feeling that his cheeks were no longer red because of the cold outside alone. “Ah no, thanks aunti. Tea is fine, I can make it myself, uncle, you’re busy right?”

Tobirama threw him an incredulous glance, yet amused smile. “Kagami, go and change into something dry or you’ll catch a cold. You can take a shower if you want.” He went to fill the kettle.

“No, I’ll just change.” He went and took his small suitcase and a bag. Then he gave them a last sweet smile and went down the hallway to the guest room.

Madara turned to Tobirama. “He looks so much like an adult already, 21, can hardly believe it. You think we should give him more money? I hope he eats enough.”

“We can send him more if it makes you feel better.” 

Kagami poked in his head from around the corner. “Uncle, could I lend a pullover from you? Half of my suitcase is drenched from the snow.” He smiled embarrassed as he stood in the door in a new pair of trousers, but without a shirt. 

Tobirama pressed her shoulder as he passed and went towards Kagami to steer him into their bedroom. “Put your clothes in the washing machine, we can wash them right away.” She could hear them mutter all the way down the hallway. 

Kagami was not their son, but sometimes it felt like it.

Their difference in age of fourteen years was not enough to warrant feelings of parentage, but well… it was not only her pregnant state that had something in her think of him as hers to protect. Not that Tobirama was better off, if one of them was really invested in helping Kagami proofread through assignments and with applications for apprenticeships and the like, it was him. 

Not that Madara cared. Or Tobirama for that matter. Kagami had always been her favourite cousin, the one she had babysat throughout her late teens and whom she had sleep over in her dorm after his father's death. And later, Kagami had been a frequent staple in their appartment. Tobirama's patient lecturing had gotten Kagammi through highschool tests and presentations. 

So of course, when he had called them from the sidewalk, crying and with barely more than two bags of belongings because his mother had thrown him out on his eighteenth birthday, Tobirama and her had taken him in. Madara had never liked her aunt, Kagami's mother, but after Kagami told them that the reason he was basically homeless was that his mother had wanted to move in her new boyfriend and needed him gone, Madara had called her and given her a very ugly speech. 

(Everyone from their family had cut ties with Kagami’s mother. She was not welcome at family functions, she was not invited or called.) 

Tobirama and Madara were the ones that had gotten him threw his finally exams at school, who had helped him apply for college. They were the ones paying for his apartment. They were the ones who send him money so he did not really need that part-time job at the café to feed himself. And they were the ones he returned to for holidays and birthdays. 

(The rest of her family was doing their fair share too, of course. Her own parents sometimes send Madara money to buy stuff for Kagami.)

He did not have a room in their apartment, only one of their guestrooms he slept in whenever he returned, with a wardrobe filled with his belongings. 

Tobirama turned the corner and gave her knowing smile, before he resumed his position at the stove. Madara made sure to get another set of cutlery and a third plate.

Tobirama had given Kagami his slippers, because his footsteps were more muffled, when he re-entered. “Even my present is a little soaked.” He showed her a square wrapped in red paper, dripping a bit. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing that can be water damaged though.”

He put it down on the table and then he came to her, fingers visibly itching and his gaze tentatively switching to her stomach. “Aunti, is it really a boy?”

“Sure is.” She took his hand and placed it herself and as if Kiharuma had listened, he struggled for Kagami to feel. 

“You wanna see the ultrasound pictures?”

“Yes.”

Tobirama interrupted them with a wave towards their table. “We should eat first. No one likes their eggs overcooked.” 

The days between Christmas and New Year’s Eve were spent at their apartment in relaxation. With Kagami as company it was pleasant to only talk about his life and plans for when he would finish his degree. He told them that he wanted to return to their city, to apply for a job or a masters somewhere closer by and judging by the look she shared with Tobirama, she was not the only one looking forward to having Kagami closer to home again.

New Year’s Eve came and went. Kagami left again with a promise to return shortly after his final exams or when the baby was born, whatever came first.

At the end of the sixth month she felt like she could not possibly be getting any bigger. 

Madara had dropped herself on Tobirama’s side of the mattress, onto her back, which was only safe for a few minutes and so she would have to turn to either side soon. “I feel like a very bloated whale.” 

A perk was that from her position she could watch Tobirama pull off his shirt that had gotten tomato sauce all over it. Luckily, it was red to begin with, because Kawarama’s son had evenly distributed food all over him. “Like one of these cadavers that get washed onto the beach after decomposing so far, they actually float on the surface.”

“Lovely,” Tobirama deadpanned. “You don’t look like one though.” 

“If this your attempt at being charming, try harder.” She extended a hand in his direction to beckon him over and still only half dressed and hair a little tousled, of course, he noticed. 

“Hm, I might.” There was not a lot of space at the edge of the mattress for him to sit, but he managed and nuzzled into her head, peppered kisses all over her crown, then her neck and her chest. 

Madara inhaled sharply and growled. “Be careful at least. You may enjoy that my breast are swollen like inflated balloons, but it bloody stings.”

“Sorry.” He pulled away and so she had the room to roll onto her side. “How are you feeling?”

She gave him a glare. “Like someone strapped a moving pineapple to my stomach.”

“That is a horrible comparison.”

“Well, I don’t care. These fake contractions are annoying too.” She had had Braxton-Hicks contractions for two weeks now. At first, the feeling of her stomach squeezing weirdly had freaked her out so she had called her doctor who had called her in and reassured her that everything was fine and that these were normal.

That did not make them any more comfortable.

Tobirama was good at distracting her though. The kisses he gave along her neck were soft, barely more than a tickle, but one of his hands was on her side, while the other was at her scalp, massaging her temple. “Is there anything I can do for you?” 

“We don’t have that many options.” 

The strands of his hair tickled her ear, then her collar bone. “I can think of a thing or two I’d like to do.”

When he kissed her stomach and his gaze flickered up to her, her eyes closed already. “Go on then, show me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think?
> 
> I actually really like the name! :D  
> For Kiharuma I looked at the kanji for hope, spring and then jewel, which I hope could roughly mean something like `hoping for a spring jewel´, which I find really sweet. (I'm don't speak japanese and have only basic knowledge on how names are build, so if this is completly off, please tell me :'D)
> 
> Share your thoughts with me;)


	6. For the season's sake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this took so long to come back!  
> Just took me a while to get back into the mood for these last two chapters and this was a chapter I wanted to get right, so I took my time:)  
> Well, here it is and I'm happy I finally finished it! The next chapter is almost finished, I have to do some more editing, but I'll hopefully have it up at the end of the week! 
> 
> Warning: hospital and angst, so there ya go...
> 
> AccidentallyOnPurose, I included your idea ;) hope you like it, I had to fit it into my story, so I hope this is what you imagined :D
> 
> And Kat, I did the birthday thing you asked for in Chap 2... although it's not Hashirama's but Izuna's :) hope your not disappointed

“Are you nervous?” Tobirama whispered against her hair and Madara pressed her knee against his in acknowledgment.

“No.” He held onto their bag and Madara held onto her book, but she glanced up to meet his eyes. “Just worried.”

And Tobirama nodded and pressed a kiss to her temple. Only another woman sat in the waiting area of their obsteatrician's office and concern had always had Tobirama more touchy than normal.

The thing was, she hadn’t gained any weight for two weeks and that could only mean that – despite eating more than enough – she was losing weight or Kiharu wasn’t growing.

The second option was worse in her opinion, but both had potential to hint at something bad. 

Even though they had been in that examination room several times by now and had plenty of ultrasound pictures of Kiharu, seeing him move on the screen still had something magical. 

“Other babies only look like a potato, but with him I can already tell that he has your nose.” Madara had blurted out without a second thought the night before. They had had ordered in to lounge on the couch, entangled and looking through all the ultrasound images of Kiharu they had collected over the months.

Tobirama had huffed a laugh into her hair and carded it back. “Which of our dear brothers’ children are you comparing to a vegetable?”

“Our nephews and nieces are perfect, I'm talking more about the ultrasound images of Hashirama I've seen. He was a pumpkin baby.” To lean back into his chest with laughter was one of Madara’s favourite things, to feel his arms around her was even better that way.

“You’re supposed to be 28 weeks in, right?” Her doctor interrupted Madara’s thoughts and she finally looked at her and frowned, because the obstetrician had wrinkles of worry formed on her forehead.

“Yes.” Madara answered, but there was already a coldness of worry that was laying itself over her like a blanket.

“And you said you haven’t gained any weight since our last appointment?”

Madara felt herself nod, but their obstetrician was intensively looking through notes and then at the screen.

“Your baby is not measuring in at his gestational age. He barely makes the necessary weight and size for 26 weeks.” 

Only the steady thumpthump of Kiharuma’s heartbeat broke the tension.

She shouldn’t be surprised. He shouldn’t be surprised. This was what they had expected after all. And still Tobirama’s fingers around her hand had tightened. “Is that a significant fall-back?”

The doctor gave them a tense smile, a hint of unease with it. “He has almost stopped growing completely, which can hint at all sorts of problems. You have been eating appropriately, right?”

Madara nodded.

“And had no alcohol or cigarettes.”

Now Madara furrowed her brows. “Of course not.”

The doctor did send her a small apologetic smile. “I need to ask, because this is something that we need to keep a very close look at. It may not yet be a significant fall-back, but one that can be a hint that something is wrong and with your overall risk we need to be on alert anyway. Should he not fare better until our next appointment, we will have to take more serious measures.”

More serious measures.

Madara glanced at Tobirama and found him already looking at her. “Are there any precautions we should take?”

“Meet your nutritional needs and aside… we’ll do bloodwork and see whether there’s anything we can determine from the outside, but right now, I can’t find a definite reason for his stall.”

He wanted to follow that up with hundreds of questions, she could tell from that look in his eyes, but the obstetrician changed the image on the screen and changed the topic.

He blood pressure was fine, her liver enzyms and blood was okay. Everything seemed okay. So why wasn't he developing normally?

The next weeks from there on became a feat of trying to stay positive while overthinking all the little things she did during the day. Madara tried not to, because it felt like beckoning doom upon them before fate had even rolled its dice, but to stop a rolling train of thoughts was difficult.

So between dinners with Izuna, niece-sitting and minimal work, they kept looking for houses.

Still, the most energy was spend on trying to calm her nerves and stopping Tobirama from ordering every single book in relation to this newly emerged worry of theirs.

Madara sat on the couch and read another real estate agent's website when Tobirama walked by with his phone in hand. He threw her a glance, halted and tilted his head with a fond smile. “Mh, why does that look like my t-shirt?”

She looked up. “Because it is. I thought it would match.” She lifted the bottom of the shirt to show him her pants, or more precisely, a pair of _his_ boxers she was wearing. They had been together long enough, so she knew that that was a thing he found enticing.

Which he still hid well. He only shook his head in amusement, went back to whatever he had been reading on his phone and filled the kettle with water. “You look better in my clothes than I do.”

“Sweet-talker.”

“Is it working?” A quick glance over his shoulder he threw her and didn’t even try to hide the fondness in his eyes.

“Maybe.” She could no longer keep down a smile of her own, so she closed her laptop, set it aside and sank deeper into the couch to lie down. “Come here. I need a hug.”

“In a second.” He put on the kettle, placed down his glasses and phone, and finally came over only to touch her stomach were her t-shirt had ridden up. “Nudge over.”

Her stomach had gotten quite big and Tobirama was not a small man, but their couch was off a decent breadth.

Nonetheless, she inched back into the couch as far as possible and Tobirama carefully embraced her and took up the little space that had still been there. He'd probably fall off the edge with a single erratic movement.

His face was so close, his hands a warm, heavy weight on her back and his feet mingled with hers, but as she kissed his nose, his lids fell closed. “Are you tired?”

His answer was more a hum than words. “How do you know.”

Madara smiled. “Dunno. Maybe those massive eye bags.”

For that, he pinched her back, not painfully so, but enough for Madara to flinch and nearly push him off the couch.

They broke into laughter instead until Tobirama yawned into her shoulder and his chest beneath her fingers lifted in a deep inhale. “Do you want to nap?”

“Mh.” He sighed. “How long till we have to leave?”

“An hour at least.” The clock was right there when she leaned up and glanced over his shoulder. “An hour and ten.”

“Okay.” And he closed his eyes.

The thing with Tobirama was, he had trouble resting when there was a problem he hadn't yet solved. He could mull over it for hours without a break in focus.And last night he had read through medical specialised books and expert reports on infant development and pregnancy risks.

Those were the days Madara had to remind him to come to bed, but even then he sometimes would close his eyes and suddenly get up again with an apology and the promise to not take too long, to only try out one more thing.

It was fine. That was just who he was. 

But, when there was nothing of imminent concern, he could fall asleep anywhere, at any time, in less than a minute.

And that was a gift Madara wished, she’d perfected too. 

Madara didn't dare close her eyes too. She wasn't even tired, but her feet and hands were a little swollen and she had had a mild headache since breakfast.

So she just rested and felt Kiharu’s movement. It was something that carried meditative properties almost.

Kiharu was active, but he had grown softer with the weeks. His kicks and strokes were just as frequent, but less painful.

Something that had Madara in awe the first time she noticed was that he actually started reacting to their voices, not that he understood or followed orders, but he grew excited when either Tobirama or she spoke.

A feeling like small bubbles and gentle caresses, mixed with something that felt like he was rolling around.

Tobirama’s face carried the same expression of happy anticipation every time she mentioned it.

And it had started a sensation she hadn’t know before. Something new and foreign had flooded her with intense warmth.

It had brought back a conversation she had had with Tobirama during the first half of her pregnancy.

“I’m not sure I love him the way you already do.” She had whispered into his back in the safety of their bed one night. It had been a well harboured secret and something she felt tremendously guilty for.

Tobirama had turned to her and cupped her face with a serious expression. “There is no right way to love someone.”

Her throat had felt closed and dry. “It’s not that I don’t love him. It’s just… that I don’t know what to feel about the idea of a child that I haven’t even held yet. I would do-” She searched for a word better than the one that was at the tip of her tongue but no other came, “-everything. Everything if it means he’s healthy and safe. I’d throw myself in front of a truck for him, but I just…”

Words failed her and she closed her mouth. She knew she was not the only person in a situation like this. This was more common than most people thought, but it was one of those things not talked about for the feeling of shame.

For someone that had never actively wanted a child to find themselves with one was not easy, but now that she had him, she wanted him.

She wanted to see him and get to know him, but to think someone she hadn’t even met…

What made it more painful for her was that Tobirama had no such problems. Or maybe he did not notice the distinction in emotion like she did, but as always, he spelt truth with his words for her to rationalise.

“You are closer connected with him. There’s not only a social pressure with the idea that the mother is the one to feel incomparable, all-consuming love right from conception, but also that closer physical proximity equates an almost mental understanding.”

Tobirama had managed to summon it up for her though as he usually did. “He may be a tiny person in our care, but even we will need to get to know him and there is nothing wrong with that. You love him, but soon we’ll get to meet and _love_ him.”

“Not too soon hopefully.”

“We hope for spring.” Tobirama smiled against her cheek. “A beautiful season to meet the world.”

“Tobira, I hope he’ll be alright.”

“We’re doing everything in our possibility to assure that. Everything else is out of our control.” He had given her forehead a kiss and a comforting smile. “As soon as he's born, we'll do him right.”

Now, after weeks that Madara had spent intensely and consciously focused on Kiharu, she had noticed so much more than she thought she’d be able to. And with it the feeling of protectiveness that had been there right from the moment she had known of his existence grew stronger.

Kiharu was there and small pieces of who he would be were already evident. His soft touches were something she now associated with happiness.

He liked it when she swayed from left to right. He liked it when she walked through the silence of their local park. He liked the calm mornings and the cosy evenings with Tobirama. He liked it when they touched him, even with all the layers of skin and tissue between, small caresses and pokes he returned with so much excitement, Madara felt her heart speed every time it happened.

His more painful kicks came only when she moved too fast, when her voice got loud, even in a mock argument with Hashirama.

Kiharu didn’t like prolonged silence. As if he was looking for a sign that they were still there, not unlike the way they grew anxious when he hadn’t moved for a prolonged time.

Aside from those, he was still nothing more than a black-and-white picture, an idea of a person, a possibility, a potential future that she was afraid could still be ripped from between her fingers.

And that was fine. Madara couldn’t wait to meet him.

After thirty minutes, she gently shook Tobirama’s shoulders and watched his eyes flutter open.

“Hey.” She spoke lowly, but the softness was unmistakably there anyway.

A small smile, then he closed his eyes again and blinked slowly. “Hey.”

“We gotta get up soon.” Strands of hair fell into his face and Madara gently pushed them away. “Your brother may not mind when we're late, but Mito will be salty.”

Despite that, his embrace got tighter, his legs tangled more with hers and he pushed his face to her neck and grumbled. “Another minute.”

Kiharu in her softly kicked right where Tobirama was pressed against her stomach and one of Tobirama's hands slipped under the t-shirt to feel his movement.

And then their son did it again, Madara could almost feel his joy.

It was hard to get up when all she wanted to do was make out with Tobirama on the couch, but they had less than a thrity minutes to get ready, so sex had to wait.

At their next appointment, Kiharu still hadn’t grown.

He hadn’t turned from his breech position either and now her doctor was truly concerned. “I would suggest you make an appointment with the hospital, especially the maternity ward’s team specialist in preparation for expected preemies.”

Expected Preemie, a baby expected to be born premature. Madara's palm was sweaty. Her pulse was apparently elevated but still within normal, her blood okay.

She handed them a leaflet. “They will help you set up a plan, show you the NICU and explain the situations most likely to happen. Just in case. There are a hundred different ways this could go from here, obviously not all of them include you actually delivering prematurely, but it is best to know what could be coming and what to expect in each scenario.”

Kiharu wasn’t dying. He wasn’t even sick, at least nothing had been found so far, but something was wrong and with every day Madara grew angrier at the thought that it was her body that was boycotting his chance at life. 

To grief for a child that hadn’t even died felt all sorts of wrong.

Weeks of seeing him do astoundingly well and feeling him lively and healthy had allowed droplets of hope for a third trimester free of complications to seep in.

Apparently fate would not allow them so much luck.

The late afternoon before Izuna’s birthday Tobirama and Hashirama stumbled into the apartment sweaty and in a good mood.

Sometimes Madara would go and watch their training sessions, just to annoy Hashirama for his form. She had very little knowledge in basketball, but liked to repeat the same thing their trainer said just to rile Hashirama up.

The team they played in met for fun once a week and it was a group made up of fulltime working men and women, most of which - same as the Senju brothers - used to play basketball during their college days. Kawarama, Hashirama and Tobirama fit right in with their tall, broad statute.

Tobirama shouldered his back and came to give her a small kiss. “Hey, everything okay?”

“Could be better, head’s killing me.”

“I’ll get you something.”

Another peck and then he left, but before he could disappear through the hallway to their bedroom, Madara called. “How long till you leave?”

“Thirty minutes. Izuna should be here by eight. I’ll shower now, could you heat up leftovers?”

“Sure.” Madara rose with aching back and feet. “And you,” She pointed at Hashirama who had been about to drop onto their couch. “You need a shower before you’re allowed to lounge on any of our furniture.”

Hashirama sighed, but followed her to the kitchen and because he looked exhausted, Madara showed mercy, pulled out a chair and pressed him into it. Tobirama returned, without a t-shirt, but with her pain meds in tow and Hashirama made a disgusted noise when they kissed.

Madara gave him an unimpressed stare.

They had leftover spinach lasagne in a microwave save glass dish and Madara placed it in the microwave.

“Smells good. Can I get some too?”

“Sure.” Tobirama had purposefully made more to last for dinner. Madara turned to lean against the countertop, rub her eyes and then her stomach where Kiharu was petting her constantly. “So which movie are you subjecting me to today?”

“Oh, you’ll love it. It’s that romantic drama they filmed here in Konoha last year, `After Rain and Without You´.”

“Sounds weird.”

“It might be really sad. The trailer was emotional.”

“Better get the tissues then, because I’m not gonna allow you to flood our living room.” It was meant as a tease, but in it was a core of truth. Hashirama had a history of selecting emotional or romantic movies for their movie nights and then crying his eyes out.

With Tobirama gone out with Izuna, it was left to Madara to care for him most often, for which she really didn’t feel in the mood for right now.

It was sort of their tradition. Tobirama and Izuna went out to boulder or bowl with friends, and Hashirama and she stayed in to watch a movie. With her pregnant and at risk of complications, Tobirama had wanted to go out without her increasingly less, so tonight was a rare occurance.

Eventually, Tobirama came back, showered and dressed, but his hair still damp and a hurried focus, so Hashirama left to take his shower.

They made dinner a quick affair with a small side salad and fresh apple juice, Tobirama ate a bit faster than he normally would.

He hated being late. So when Izuna rang the bell, he was ready and had said his goodbyes.

“Ice cream’s in the lowest compartment.” Madara sat on the couch in front of a movie menu and drank another glass of water.

Hashirama dipped face first into their freezer. “Uh, chocolate.”

“Bring two spoons or I’ll send you back.” And she stared at her empty glass. “And more water.”

Hashirama frowned, but dutifully filled a water jug. “You’ll need the toilette in about thirty minutes and we’ll have to stop during the best part.”

A single look and Hashirama didn’t complain any longer.

They did end up stopping twice for toilet breaks.

Then, they had to stop a third time to get more tissues. Not because Hashirama was crying, but because Madara couldn’t stop her eyes from watering.

And Hashirama was at a loss. This had never happened, so very obviously he didn’t really know how to comfort her. “Do you want a blanket? Or a hug?”

He pushed more tissues into her hands and Madara wanted to glare at him angrily, but her eyes burned and even looking into the direction of the scene they had stopped the film in brought a fresh wetness to her cheeks.

The thing was, the movie wasn’t even that good or that touching, but _something_ about it had Madara’s eyes burn. The constant melancholy mixed with the sad them of imminent death through illness and the grief of a brother that she felt very, very deeply.

But to have Hashirama weasel around her and try and help with awkward pats and one armed hugs was simply too much. “Just… shut up for a sec. I’ll go and wash my face.”

Madara stood with freshly swollen feet and a stab in her stomach. Her back hurt, her head ached still, her heart raced, but Kiharu tapped the side of her stomach and she found herself answering with a soft poke.

“Should I call Tobi?” 

Madara froze. “Hashirama, I swear, if you call Tobirama just because I got a little emotional over a movie, I’ll lock you in the bathroom.”

“Okay.” He sank down and watched her as she made her way to the bathroom, but right before she could vanish, he opened his mouth once more. “Don’t worry Mads, pregnancy hormones make everyone a little weird. Mito wanted to…”

Madara disrupted him before Hashirama had a chance to sabotage his marriage by spilling secrets his wife would not be very fond of spreading. “Hashirama, get your sorry ass to the kitchen and make me tea and heat a heating pad before I throw you out.”

The next day and morning of Izuna’s birthday, Madara woke after a meagre two hours of sleep. Over the night, she had turned restlessly with a crippling headache and sweaty palms.

Her chest hurt like a flame ball caught behind her ribcage. Heartburn was no stranger to her, it had happened a couple of times, even though this one was definitely the worst.

Tobirama had turned to her. She could feel his warm, deep breath at the back of her neck, where he hid his face from the rising sun and early sunbeams that shone through the curtains.

His hand was a steady weight on top of her stomach, but Madara was already too warm, so she kicked away the blanket and struggled to be released from his arms and Tobirama woke, at least enough to draw back his arms and blink at her as she sat up.

Her feet ached before she even stood and the sound she made was unpleased and pained.

“Are you alright?” His voice was still deep and hoarse, and would have normally been reason enough for her to get back into bed and bask in calm warmth of his embrace, but Madara felt sick.

“Yeah, just…” She waved him off, because despite the hand holding her head, she could hear their blankets rustle and Tobirama’s slippers on the floor following her while she staggered to the bathroom. “Need to pee. And pain meds. This is worse than normal.”

“I’ll get you some.” His hand gently took her shoulder and his other felt her forehead. “Or do you need help?”

“No,” she shook her head slowly, “thanks. I’ll manage.”

“I think I should call our doctor too.”

Madara was dry heaving over the sink when Tobirama came back with a glass of water, pills and his phone on speaker. “…yes, she says it’s worse than normal.”

She drank and sank down on the toilette seat. He covered the speaker and murmured. “She wants to know what symptoms you have specifically.”

Madara took the phone and leaned against Tobirama’s hip, his hand came to card her hair back. “Good morning. We have you on speaker, is that alright?”

“Sure, good morning, Mrs. Uchiha. Could you give me a little more detail? I suspect you’ll need to head to the hospital, but there is a slim chance I can prevent that.”

Madara laughed bitterly. “Yea, that would be nice. Today is my brother’s birthday. It is simply a weird mixture of the usual. Stomach cramps, headaches, heart burn, swollen feet, but unusually severe.” And her own hand came to her wrist to feel her fleeting heart. “And I think my pulse is increased.”

Her pain tolerance was high, endometriosis was a painful condition after all, but this was a new sort of pain, so different that she really wasn’t used to it.

The obstetrician hummed and after a second, she sounded more serious. “Ok, can you tell your husband to take you to the hospital?” Tobirama’s fingers in her hair froze and they locked gazes instantly. “You definitely need a medical professional to check on you and your baby, because you’re showing signs of preeclampsia and that is a serious condition.”

There was a big knot in her throat all of a sudden and it didn’t go away when she cleared her throat. “Okay. He’ll drive me.”

“I’ll pack our bags and call Izuna.” Tobirama whispered and had concern written all over his furrowed brows and tense jaw. There was no way they’d make it to his birthday party with how things were looking right now.

“My phone’s still on the side table.” Madara mumbled as he pressed a long, hard kiss to her crown and then left with an affirmative hum.

Pressing, that’s what her voice sounded like. “Mrs. Uchiha?”

“Yes, still listing.”

“Preeclampsia is not treatable, but usually manageable under medical supervision.”

“Okay, may I ask what exactly it even is?”

“Of course, better to ask me than google and find all sorts of horror stories.” She laughed, but Madara was not really in the mood to even smile. “It is identified by high-blood pressure and signs of damage to other organs. It is important to get to the hospital as fast as possible.”

“Okay.” Madara said and automatically stood. “Thank you, we’ll do that.”

“Try to stay calm. I know, this is easier said than done, but this is a more common disorder for women with a first pregnancy in their mid-thirties and there is a suspected prevalence in women with endometriosis, so this was not unlikely to happen.”

What she did not tell Madara was that when it happened before 32 weeks of gestational age, it was usually associated with worse outcomes. And at 30 weeks and barely three days, Kiharu was way before that.

They ended the call and Madara needed a second to breathe.

She felt a little unsteady, but unsure whether it was the shock or her swollen feet, she just shuffled out of the bathroom and into their bedroom to get dressed.

Tobirama was nowhere to be seen, but he had readied a bag, it set atop their chaotic blankets and it would last them should they have to stay a night or two.

One thing Madara had a lot of respect for was, how Tobirama managed to focus under stress. All sorts of circumstances she had seen him in and he kept a cool.

He found her and helped her dress in something comfortable, took their bag, thought to notify their family and had even managed to pack food and drinks to last them the day.

She knew him as well as herself, so where other people would see his determined expression and assume him to be aloof, she saw his mind ratter through an abundance of possibilities.

Tobirama had worked hard to stay in concentrated control under all circumstances.

All so that Madara could sit back in the passenger seat and rest her throbbing head and have him very literally take the wheel.

She hated the maternity ward the second she had first stepped a foot in as a patient. It was already nerve wrecking to be a visitor here, but to be admitted was worse.

First, a lot of decisions were taken from her.

Madara was pressed into a wheel chair and wheeled into a room, while Tobirama hurried along next to her. He had that complicated expression of deep concern and unease, hidden behind his stern face of focus.

They hooked her up to all sorts of machines, measured her blood pressure and then she had the pleasure of seeing a handful of nurses lose their absolute cool when they saw her pulse.

She shouldn’t be conscious, they told her, none the less able to walk and talk. A stroke was likely, eclampsia right around the corner.

Her liver enzymes were elevated and there was protein in her urine, so her kidneys were under stress too. So she was confirmed to be in full blown preeclampsia.

Kiharu still hadn’t turned, he hadn’t grown much more either, but he barely passed the stress test. For now.

Swollen and achy, Madara didn’t even feel disappointed when they rolled her to a room and put her on strict bedrest with several monitors and drips of medication. Tobirama had claimed the armchair in the corner and sat by her side through all the weird questions and tests.

“The aim is to stay pregnant as long as possible. At least for as long as yours or your baby’s condition is not worsening. It is important to keep us updated in case the symptoms change or worsen. We’re administering magnesium among other things which should lessen your symptoms and stop this from progressing into eclampsia.”

“In which way is eclampsia worse?” Madara asked, but her voice was more a slur.

“You’ll seizure. And the consequences for you and your child can be stark.”

Tobirama was the one to speak. “Fatal?”

“Yes. So should it come to that, we’ll deliver immediately via emergency C-section.”

Madara had a feel that she should be scared or worried, Tobirama's fingers around hers were whiter than normal after all, but to be fair, her head was still hurting and fogged, she was pumped high with all sorts of medication and the haze of shock still stuck persistent. “So what is the best case scenario?”

“Your blood pressure stays low and baby makes it to the 34th week at least.”

Again, Tobirama cleared his throat and asked. “How likely is that?”

And the doctor gave them a small smile, tense around the eyes and very sympathetic. “Let’s just say that I think that you won’t leave the hospital before your baby is born.”

Despite magnesium and all sorts of medication, her blood pressure barely lowered. The pain stayed.

Right before lunch, Tobirama got a call from his parents and paced in the far corner while a nurse did a normal check of all the lines. “My colleague will come over with the steroid shot in ten minutes.”

Steroid sounded bad and Madara frowned. “What are they given for?”

“These are specific steroids given to hopefully help develop your baby’s lungs faster.”

“Oh, right.” Madara hadn’t really put two and two together, but in front of her eyes everything dazed anyway. “Is that standard procedure?”

“Standard for everyone with a baby at risk of being born before the 34th week and right now, it looks like you might have him within the week. A doctor will come to talk about a scheduled C-section soon.”

Madara felt her face freeze. It was hard to get any words out. “Within the week?!” And after a look of panic she directed at Tobirama, which he luckily caught and ended his call more abruptly, her next thought was. “Isn’t that too soon? We don’t even have a nursery prepared.”

The nurse cringed visibly. “It is only considered because at this point the risk of high blood pressure to you and your baby are greater than the risks of premature birth.”

Then she smiled even more apologetic. “And Miss, even if your son is born this week. You won’t be able to take him home for a while. Both of you’ll have to recover and he’ll have to stay in NICU. If you manage to last the next two days, the steroids will have had time to have an effect at least.”

Well, if that wasn’t bleak news.

A doctor came and gave her the shot, there would be another one later tonight and another two the next day.

Then they scheduled a C-section. In two days’ time, unless her condition miraculously improved or (more likely) worsened, Kiharu would be born on Feburary 12 at roughly 2pm.

“… and Asami got me a new watch.” Izuna lifted his wrist into the camera with a new dark blue watch to replace the old thing he had had before.

“Nice.” Madara yawned. The entire day had weighted her down and had left her more exhausted, sluggish and disoriented.

She had inched over to allow Tobirama to sit next to her on the mattress so they could video call Izuna to congratulate him and be present for at least some of the coffee-and-birthday-cake celebration.

Nōtori bounced on his leg, her voice cut in and out for Madara, their image blurred, either the video quality was decreasing or her eyes grew tired. “Tomorrow, we wanted to-”

Madara rested her eyes for only a second and came back into consciousness with Tobirama’s fingers carding back her hair and his strong hands guiding her shoulder to lay down controlled.

“Madara, are you okay?” Someone over the video call sounded very concerned, but Madara couldn’t think or hear it very well. The pounding rush of blood in her ears was loud, the race of her heart and the feel of a knife cutting open her innards had her blank in panic.

She was vaguely aware what was happening, but from there on, her memory was a haze of single scenes and few images.

They would later tell her that her heart was arrhythmic, that her blood pressure rose so high, they had to give her something to prevent a stroke. She seizured, twice.

Her kidneys were stressed, her liver was bad, but worst of all, Kiharu’s heart kept slowing dangerously low.

That things could get really bad very fast she had been vaguely aware of, but that it could change this drastically within less than thirty minutes, she hadn’t expected.

One memory that stayed with her was when she came into consciousness as they rolled her down a hallway.

Her eyes fluttered, her fingers tightened around Tobirama’s hand and he leaned down, peppered her crown with kisses and his voice was strained. “Madara, they’re preparing everything for an emergency C-section. Are you alright?”

Madara really wanted to answer, but all she could do was press his hand once.

Then a sudden burst of clarity hit.

To worsen this quickly, to get this bad…

All the willpower she could muster she used to tighten her fingers on Tobirama’s hand, where he was holding onto her, and despite the swift stride he had to do to keep up with the doctors and nurses, he bend down in relief and surprise, to smile at her, a bit shaky.

It lasted only until she muttered with all her willpower. “Save him.” It might be an unrealistic sort of fear, but she could not help her frantic brain fog. “If it is me or him, choose him.”

His expression turned complicated in horror. “This is no choice. And I’m not the one in a position to help either of you.”

Nothing of that mattered to her panicked mind, because the end of the hallway drew closer fast. “Tobirama, promise me.”

He insisted. “There will be no choice. Not for me at least.”

“Promise.”

A moment of silence, then he ducked his head and sounded defeated. “Okay.”

Madara might’ve felt bad for asking this of him, but she couldn’t.

And that really was the end of the line. The bed stopped, one of the doctors mentioned to make the goodbye fast.

She pressed his fingers, her voice was giving out on her, but she still managed to aspirate. “I love you.”

They seldom said it.

Still, it was one of those truths between them they’d never questioned.

It was spelled in all of Tobirama’s small gestures of care. How he brought her tea and cooked her favourite dishes, how he stayed close at family functions and saved a seat for her when she was late.

Madara instantly found him first in every crowded room and with her fingers she wrote it into his skin with every touch like an invisible tattoo.

It was obvious in the simple joy of being with each other. All their quite mornings and weekends spent together.

She had seen Tobirama cry more often than anyone else in their life, but even so, it had rarely happened over the decade they’d known each other.

Now, he clenched his eyes and tightened his jaw, as he leaned closer down to her to kiss her forehead and then her lips. A telling wetness had her heart clench when his fingers drew back from hers. “I love you too.”

And at the door, Tobirama had to stay behind.


	7. Resolve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter. Suprise!  
> I proofread this like twenty times, but I might still go back later and change some sentences or so... perfectionism is here to ruin me.  
> It took longer than I thought it would, but this was difficult to write and I wanted to get the emotions right, so I took extra time to finish it to my satisfaction (and hopefully yours).  
> It got way longer than I planned (13,400 words!!!), but what else is new... I tend to write and write till I'm satisfied and it just turns into a lengthy monstrosity.  
> Enjoy! :)  
> Happy New Year!!! I wish you all the best!

The bleak reality was that Tobirma could do nothing, but wait.

The knowledge that the vast majority of emergency C-sections passed without a problem was not enough to reassure him. Statistics meant nothing in a single case appliance.

In a hospital waiting area, minutes passed with the vicious flow of time that had them feel like hours and seconds simultaneously.

Tobirama was not prone to panic, but right now, his throat felt tight and his chest ached against an invisible corset of build-up emotion.

His eyes still itched, there was still a tell-tale wetness in his lashes and when he tried to unclench the muscles in his neck, he noticed the stiffness in his jaw.

But there was no more place for panic here.

His mind was of no use when it was caught in anything but crisp awareness.

This was supposed to be the best and - simultaneously - worst moment of his life and he had to savour it for what it was.

So, very consciously, he closed his eyes and allowed himself three seconds to drown in the swell of conflicting emotions. The wave of premature grief and apprehensive anticipation was overwhelming.

Wild thoughts ran along all possibilities, just to be aware of the gratifying implications of his situation.

The most dreaded was that by the end of the night, Madara could be dead and Kiharu severely disabled or gone with her.

It made him want to bow and kneel, if only that would make the pressure more endurable, but he pushed through. Before he was tempted to dwell in the anxious pool of doubts, he reeled them all in, knotted the ends and pushed them to the back of his mind.

Tobirama took a deep breath and – very intentionally – let all those tensions go.

This was not the moment to get caught in the unproductive webs of fear.

First, he took a minute to type a quick message for their parents and siblings.

Izuna had wanted to drop everything and come to the hospital right away when Madara had fainted, but there were several reasons out of which Tobirama and Izuna’s parents had told him to hang back and wait. Mostly that with everything that had happened, Izuna was still in shock and Tobirama did not have the mental capacity to care for him. It sounded cruel even to think in such a way, but right now, he would be more burden than help. And if Madara died… there was nothing they could do.

Then, Tobirama started typing a list. The list of things he would have to get from home or ask someone to get for them, because if Kiharu would be born and survive, they would not get to go home anytime soon. That half of the items would change if either Madara or Kiharu died was not relevant right now.

And then he ordered one eBook after another to skim, but before he had a chance to turn to sit on a set of chairs, a voice called out for him and Tobirama looked up and noticed the nurse that sprinted towards him. “Mr. Senju. Put this on and follow me please.”

He had not expected that someone would come back for him. She handed him scrubs and he was familiar enough with gowns like these to put them on efficiently fast. “Where are we going?”

“The OP.”

The double doors she led him through only opened because she swayed her badge in front of a scanner and they entered the behind-the-scenes of the hospital’s OP. Tobirama caught a glance of himself in small mirrored glass panels and he nearly didn’t recognise himself.

Stern gaze in bloodshot eyes with furrowed brows in his ashen face, straight and tense shoulders and very, very unruly hair. He hadn’t even noticed that he had fallen back into the old nervous habit of running his hands through.

People rushed past them, there were other doors they passed, but Tobirama only stared at the set of doors they were heading towards.

Instead of going inside, they stopped right before and the nurse turned to him. “Your wife’s under general anaesthesia. Normally you could be present, but in this specific case it is better for you to wait here. There’s a lot going on right now.”

That they would rather not have him in the room could only mean… “How bad is she?”

“Before I left, it was too early to be sure, but she will be in there for a while. I gotta be honest,” She looked at another nurse who nodded and came to wait with Tobirama while she left, “it’s not looking good, but I'll get an update for you now.”

Then the doors opened and she was gone and left him with another nurse who mustered him with sympathetic glances.

Though it took less than thirty seconds for her to return and her expression had darkened. “Your son will come through here in about a minute and will be transferred to the NICU for emergency care.”

Tobirama’s heart started a race. “So he is already born?”

She nodded and Tobirama leaned back against the wall. He knew that emergency C-sections were supposed to be fast, but only roughly ten minutes had passed since the doors had closed behind Madara. And now he had suddenly become a father without even knowing.

Behind these doors was his baby. “How is he?”

Her face stayed just as grim and sympathetic, Tobirama knew he was already developing a distasted for that expression specifically. It was meant to be helpful, deeply human, but it came with the shards of dread. “Your son was not breathing when they got him and he is being resuscitated.”

Tobirama cleared his throat and kept holding her gaze. “And what about my wife.”

Something very complicated flickered over her face, but she clearly tried to keep a neutral expression. “Your wife is losing a lot of blood and is getting her first blood transfusion.”

Her first. That implied that there was need for a second. “We send for someone to have a closer look at her kidneys and have someone on sight should her heart give out.”

Grief hit harder than he had expected.

And he was glad to already have the safety of a wall at his back, because it took that firmness for him to lean against and keep him from swaying.

Tobirama had to close his eyes for a second and took a deep breath.

Madara could die and that was a reality he had to accept.

He did not want to ask, but he had to know. And even he was surprised by the steadiness of his voice and eyes. “Will she make it?”

“I can’t say anything about that. I’m sorry.”

“When will you know?”

“There is no way of telling, we will try to keep you updated as frequently as possible. Should everything process well, there’ll be a specialist to extract as much endometrial tissue as possible too. Otherwise it could prevent her incision from closing or destabilise the scar tissue. So even if things go well, she’ll be in OP for at least another two hours.”

Tobirama wanted to ask at least ten more questions. Things about long-term consequences, chances of full-recovery, chances of _survival_ , but then things got hectic very suddenly.

The doors to his left swung open and a group of people around a heated bed for infants rushed passed them and Tobirama got a small glimpse that burnt itself into his brain.

In the middle of organised chaos was a tiny, unmoving baby with a tuft of black curls that stuck to his head, with barely cleaned blood and amniotic fluid stuck to his round, flushed cheeks.

His skin was scarily white, his body limp that with every hand that came to touch him and lift an arm, he looked more like a puppet.

And he was silent. Not a single sound he had made. An oxygen mask blocked his mouth and nose, but IVs and monitors were fitted, while someone kept up a steady external heart massage.

Either he was unconscious or already gone.

The thoughts in Tobirama worked rapidly, the decision was made in less than a second and a feel of incredible guilt crept up on him, but he stifled it fast.

There was no wrong decision in this, but that only meant that there was no right one either. Ironic, that Madara had predicted his ordeal. He could either follow and watch over their dying child or he could stay and wait for Madara to live or die.

Despite his promise, it was not as easy as it should’ve been and a single last glance at the doors of the OP he allowed himself. He could only hope that Madara was not dying without him.

Then Tobirama broke into a sprint to follow Kiharu and the swarm of nurses and doctors.

He caught up with the last nurse who was only pushing a stand and she turned to him with an impatient frown, before recognition eased her expression. “Are you the father?”

Deep breath. “Yes.” Tobirama had imagined becoming a father very differently. “And I would like an update on my son’s condition.”

This time, the second Kiharu had vanished through these doors, Tobirama sank into a chair and buried his face in his hands.

In front of another OP that belonged to the NICU, Tobirama had to wait yet again.

He send another text to their families, one he had to rewrite three times to try and keep it hopeful yet truthful.

As soon as his message was out, Izuna called.

No one was there to be annoyed by the noise of vibration, but Tobirama needed a moment to calm. He felt so on edge, even this small noise had had his pulse jump.

Tobirama's hands jittered when he lifted to pick up the line. He did not even have time to say anything, Izuna simply asked, breathless and tense. “How is she really?” 

Blunt as always, but Tobirama could not even laugh about the familiarity. “It’s just as I wrote. The last thing I know is that she had a blood transfusion.”

“Can't you ask somebody?”

“I already did.” He had caught a passing nurse and asked her how to get in touch with the nurse in the maternity ward that had promised him to keep him updated. “And I asked them to keep me informed, but I don't know when they'll come to tell me more.”

There was nothing he could do and that kept messing with his head. It was hard to keep his feet from drumming and a lot of conscious effort to keep the tension out of his spine. “I'm sorry but there's not much more I can do.” It was as much an admission for himself to cover the irrational feeling of guilt.

“Ugh.” Tobirama could see Izuna perfectly, pacing through his living room, biting his nails and high strung. “It’s just so frustrating. Sorry, I know you can’t do a lot. God, I just hope she’s okay.” Izuna sighed shakily. “How is Kiharu?” 

“I don't know. He is so tiny, I think I could fit him into my palms and I'm just outside-” After what felt, simultaneously, like an eternity and the blink of an eye, someone opened the door and Tobirama stood. “Izuna, I gotta go.” 

He just ended the call without anything else.

One of the doctors he had seen before waited for Tobirama to stand and gave him a tired smile. She looked like she hadn’t slept in a while, but happy to deliver good news. “He is stable now and was transferred to the NICU.”

Relief was a cold thing to wrap itself around Tobirama’s burning tension and took some of the ache. He wanted to sit down again to compose, but other things were more important right now. “Can I go and see him? And can I get an update on my wife?”

She gave him a crisp nod and beckoned him to follow her.

Another set of doors she led him through and then they washed and disinfected their hands again, before they could enter a big room that looked more like one of his science laboratories than a nursery.

In segments parted by curtains and machines were more incubators.

There were other people around. Nurses checked machines and parents sat dead-tired in chairs, but all Tobirama was able to see was the small group of people setting up another incubator at the far end of the room.

A small window would let in natural light, but the sky had already darkened, and an unusual armchair stood by the side. With all those people around it was hard to make out which hand was doing what.

When they drew closer and one of the nurses looked up and saw them, they hurried to finish and distanced themselves to free the way for Tobirama to see.

He could hear that the doctor was saying something, but he couldn’t look away or focus on anything but the sound of the machines and a baby in between.

Kiharu was tiny. So much smaller than a new-born should be and his chest lifted visibly with every breath.

He had been cleaned, his hair an array of fine curls and his skin finally rosy, but still pale. It reminded him so much of Madara that it hurt.

A beanbag pillow was twisted around him to stop him from moving and to support his yet uncoordinated head.

His eyes were closed, his nose so small that it was weird to see a feeding tube that fit, his cheeks were less swollen and round but his fingers twitched against the soft material now and again.

So many cords and lines and electrodes stuck to his skin that it made Tobirama uneasy and he had never had a problem with medical details, but this was his child and it looked wrong to see him in nothing but a diaper and needles and cords.

“When we first got him out, we thought he’d be sicker.” And that was – weirdly enough – one of the nicest things to hear right now. “He didn’t need intubation, just a little oxygen assistance. The steroids didn’t have time to help, but his lungs were apparently already a little ahead. His digestive system is not fully developed though, so he’ll get IV nutrition and his heart is still very irregular as is his temperature. He won’t need one-on-one surveillance, but one-on-two seems necessary for now.”

He wanted to ask more in depth questions, about Madara and how things would proceed from here, but the first thing that came out with a hoarse undertone was something else.

“Can I hold him?”

The doctor and one of the nurses shared a look and talked about two things that were supposedly good enough, but Tobirama hardly noticed.

He had moved closer to the heated bed to look at him closer, his fingers itched to reach through the closed holes in the side.

One of the doctor moved closer to open the incubator. “You should sit down in our kangaroo care chair. And discard your shirt, kangaroo care is the most efficient way to aid his growth. And he’ll need all the support he can get.”

Kangaroo care essentially was like skin-to-skin. It was scientifically proven that it helped premature babies develop better, that they gained more weight, regulated their body temperature faster and an array of other things.

So Tobirama took of his pullover and then his t-shirt. Half-naked without even caring, Tobirama sat down in the armchair and leaned back.

With the utmost care, the doctor lifted Kiharu with all his lines, who didn’t even flinch or cry. He had to be exhausted from all the stress of a traumatic birth and staying alive.

Kiharu was warm and lively when the doctor handed him over.

Tobirama was handed a blanket to cover them both and that the doctor and nurses left to give them some privacy, Tobirama didn’t notice. With one hand Tobirama supported his head and with the other he supported his back and brought him to his chest.

A pang of guilt caught him unprepared, that he was the one to hold him when Madara was the one with a gruelling, demanding pregnancy and now cut open and bleeding in a room across the hospital.

Again, he caught the thought and ripped and discarded all pieces of it. If he could've taken her position, he would've, but that was not a possibility. They had to live with the situation they were in.

The first new-born he had ever held in his life had been his younger brother Kawarama. A toddler himself at the time, Tobirama had not really understood that the wiggling tiny human was now part of their family.

Since Kawarama, there had been countless of new-borns he had held.

So Tobirama knew how it felt to have tiny fingers find grip on clothes or skin, how gently swaying or bouncing could help a baby fall asleep.

Even Itama had been small and cranky, constantly fussing and trying to wiggle free from his hold. In comparison, Kiharu was a calm and unmoving, breathing weight in his arms. The second he rested on him and melted into the warmth of his chest with a deep inhale, Tobirama marvelled at just how different it was now that it was his own child.

Even with biology on their side, there was nothing wrong if someone needed time to attach to their child. Some mothers, who were aided by a hormonal cocktail of oxytocin and dopamine during labour to bond with their baby, could have trouble when the distress and exhaustion of a traumatic birth drowned out the sense of reward.

And even though men had that same hormonal boost, less intense, but definitely measurable, they often had more problems bonding with their children after birth.

The feel of fine black curls and tiny fingers on his palm, warm cheeks and the speeding heartbeat of a new-born was enough to have Tobirama soften with fondness, but the second Kiharu’s lids fluttered open to look at him with a mixture of surprisingly calm and open interest, something in Tobirama came to a halt and fell open to release an emotion he had never felt before.

He felt himself plunge through all layers of affection right into profound, deep love.

It felt all the more ironic that he had a detailed understanding of the chemical basis of what happened, but as it hit him with the force of a sledgehammer, the rational background did not matter at all, because the reality of the sensation was overwhelming.

Nothing. Nothing compared. He could not even describe it. Had he not felt it, it would have been impossible to know. The closest to this feel, came the instant acknowledgment that everything else he had achieved in his life was not inconsequential, but paled in comparison to this.

This was his child. And he was Madara’s too.

He had that same Uchiha black hair, with Tobirama's stoic curlier texture, pale skin somewhere between Madara and himself.

And hours Tobirama had spent - over the course of his life - staring into eyes with a colour like this, because Kiharu had the same deep dark-grey irises as Madara.

Cradled in Tobirama’s arms against his chest, Kiharuma felt warm and alive and he held him just that little bit closer, especially since Kiharu grew a little restless. His tiny fingers moved softly over Tobirama’s skin and the fine, scarce hair tickled his arm.

It would’ve been easy to cry, Tobirama felt that same clog of emotions come lose, but a light touch on his thumb got him out of his thoughts.

Kiharu's hands had come to rest on Tobirama’s fingers to hold onto something and they were so much smaller, not even long enough to wrap his tiny hand around Tobirama's digit.

So Tobirama cleared his throat, but it did not help, his voice still sounded hoarse and clogged when he whispered. “Hello Kiharuma.”

And Kiharu did not care when Tobirama's finger in his hair grew a little shaky, when he needed to close his eyes and take deep breathes and still didn't manage to keep his vision from blurring. “You had a rough day. I’m sorry for that.”

Kiharu had been with them for eight months.

They had talked to him, had watched him grow through black-and-white snapshot and very suddenly he became tangible. It was already hard to think of a future without him.

“I wish your mother could be here.” They had been the first and last line of protection for each other and that had extended around Kiharu already, but Tobirama could only hold their baby and be alone with his worries. “But even I can’t reach her right now.”

To think that he might not have been here if something had gone different. His existence was a miracle. His survival another.

And that brought home the last conscious thought that had missed in this puzzle of realisations. “I hope you’ll get to meet her soon, she’s been waiting for you just as much as I.”

He seldom called her anything but her name, but there was a whole assortment of names he could have for her. Madara was just the tip of the pile.

Best friend. Closest confidant. Wife. Love. And a new one was added to the list. One more really shouldn't count in an assembly like this, but _mother of my child_ rang too deep to dismiss.

When the head paediatrician came and found Kiharu asleep and calm, she asked to see some of his IV lines. Instinctually he held onto Kiharu more. A part of him did not want to let go even though he knew he would do so in an instant if it was better for his health.

When she tried to lift him of Tobirama’s chest however, Kiharu woke with a dissatisfied noise and tried to no avail to hold onto Tobirama’s skin.

And then he started crying at the loss of contact, one or two machines started to make noises that sounded more aggressive and so the doctor handed him back for Tobirama to hold while she inspected all his lines.

With a surprising amount of strength and determination one of Kiharu’s hands came to wrap around Tobirama's index where it held onto his belly.

The other hand got hold of Tobirama’s ring finger, right over his wedding band with so much surety, and then Kiharu looked up and held his gaze while his tiny fingers tried to pull his hand closer.

And Tobirama complied.

How could he not.

What followed was a detailed, medical discussion, because Tobirama asked the doctor to fill him in on all the medical information and he told him to not hold back on the medical details.

Kiharu had surprisingly good lungs already, but he would need extra oxygen for a while still. He was too small to hold his body temperature, so he would have to stay in his heated bed or be warmed by skin-to-skin. He would be fed with IV fluids until his gut was ready to digest breastmilk. And his blood glucose was low, his heart was slightly irregular (part of which was normal for babies born via C-section) and there was a longer list of things which Tobirama tried to remember.

Tobirama asked for their schedule, when medication was given, when check-ups where done, whom to ask if something felt wrong, how long he was allowed to stay, how much of his care he could do.

The more they talked, the twitchier Kiharu became. He stretched under Tobirama's palm and nudged his fingers with light touches, but he obviously didn't like the level of noise, so Tobirama ended the conversation and watched him calm again.

Before, Tobirama handed her his phone and asked her to take a picture of them. The least he could do was document this for Madara to take a little part in later. 

One of the pictures he send to their family, because at least their baby was fine.

When he could write nothing but uncertainties about Madara, he had to put his phone away again to stifle the ache.

So Tobirama secured the blanket around them, held onto him firmer and started rocking. There was only one song that came to his mind and it was Madara’s favourite, a soft ballad, and he started to hum.

With time Kiharu settled, his breaths got deeper, his heart slowed and it calmed Tobirama too.

He was tempted to fall asleep just the same, but as soon as he closed his eyes, pictures of Madara kept him alert. He would not find rest till he knew whether she'd live.

Instead, he went on a digital shopping spree. For work, he had access to several private libraries and discount on plenty of shops from scientific publishers, so he ordered every useful book and paper he could find on prenatal care and premature infants. 

With or without Madara (that thought felt like betrayal), he would make this work.

A skull-splitting headache greeted Madara as soon as she came into conscience.

The walls were white, the light bright and all sorts of unnerving sounds of machines unnerved her, because they screamed recovery room. 

Everything ached in a hollow, throbbing sort of way. It was pain, an unfamiliar one that haloed through her bones and caught her unprepared. The numbing effect of painkillers was something Madara was used to, but normally she was awake to slowly ease into the sensation.

Then Madara’s mattress dipped under the weight of someone, she opened her eyes right before familiar, gentle hands cupper her face and pressed a series of kisses to her temple and cheeks. “Madara, are you okay?”

“Tobirama?” Her voice sounded like someone had massaged her vocal cords with sandpaper.

Tobirama hummed and mustered her. “Does anything hurt? Do you need a doctor right away?”

“Eh, no. Jus’ feel like someone threw me under a truck.” Madara lifted one of her hand to rub her eyes and immediately felt a tinge where she had pulled on some IV needles.

It should be scary how well Tobirama read her intentions. He made sure to arrange cords around her, but still rubbed her eyes for her with gentle thumbs. “So you feel better?”

“Not like I’m passing out again.”

“Good. I’ll get a doctor in a sec… just…” And then he didn’t pull back, he only shifted, leaned even closer and buried his face in the croak of her neck and took in a couple of deep breaths before he trusted his voice to talk.

He was breathing a little louder than normal, there had been a tension that sipped out of him this moment as he melted into her side.

And then Madara remembered why she was here.

Her hand instinctually came up to feel her stomach, but although it was still bigger than usual, it was no longer as big as it had been when Kiharu had still been inside her.

All she remembered was talking to Izuna, blacking out, and now she had a baby, and that felt very surreal.

She tried to sit up and Tobirama had to help her, because moving hurt and pulled on the stitches she presumably had underneath the tight bandage around her midsection. “Where is Kiharu?”

“He’s in the NICU. I just checked on him five minutes ago.”

“So he’s alright?”

“He’s fine now.”

Madara knew that tone so she inquired. “But?”

And she knew what pain looked like on his expression even when he tried to hide it in a deep sigh and a hand to rub his face. “But he wasn’t for a while.”

A very thick clot formed in her throat. “What happened?”

“He wasn’t breathing when he was born. They had to reanimate him.” There it was again, the way his brows tucked into creases. Whatever she’d missed, it had had been extremely hard for him to stand to look this pained.

The way he inhaled was so audibly tense that Madara pressed his hand and cupped his cheek. “Tobira, are you okay?”

“No.” And she knew he meant it, because they didn’t lie to each other. “There was not a lot I could but wait to hear whether you’d make it or go and watch how they keep our child alive through external cardiac massage.”

“I’m so sorry for not being there.”

The bitter laugh he huffed surprised her, it sounded self-deprecating. “Love, you had the harder part. I should be the one apologising for reacting so poorly.”

“Well, I was unconscious through most of it.”

“Still.” He mumbled, his hair tickled her cheek still. “You gave birth and I struggled with something as simple as a decision.”

“What do you mean?”

“I promised you something, didn’t I?” Tobirama leaned back, but kept holding her and rubbed his eyes with the other. “Kiharu’s fine now, but there was nothing I could do, but stand outside his room and wait and hope you weren’t dying without me.”

“Come here.” Her hands felt too heavy and the cords were still too new to be used to, but she lifted a hand to caress his back anyway. “Thank you for taking care of us.”

She gently pulled him down to press his face against her shoulder and caress his hair. “I’m fine now. We got through this thus far, now we'll manage the rest too.”

He hummed, but his fingers were very tense where they were still wrapped around hers. “We’re not doing this again.” He mumbled. “Not like this. We’ll take better care from now on.”

“We had one miracle child, even if we were reckless, I don’t think there’ll be a second.”

Tobirama was silent for a second, the sighed and mentioned. “We’ll _have_ to be more careful. They took out some of endometrial tissue and rearranged whatever had been deformed while they had you open. I’m sure the doctors will tell you in detail later.”

“What?” Madara tensed up. “Really?”

“It was necessary to prevent any tissue growing into the scar, but it will probably mean that you have higher chances at conception until it grows back, so approximately two, maybe three years if you breastfeed.”

“Oh.” Yes, oh. “I mean, if I had known I would be under the knife today I probably would’ve asked them for a hysterectomy.”

The only reason she hadn’t decided on that earlier was that there was a certain risk to the surgery and that in 15% of women the pain did not go away anyway. Maybe her subconscious had thought of a miracle like theirs.

“Anything. Whatever you want.” Tobirama smiled at her apologetically. “Sorry, it was not meant as a…”

Madara interrupted him with a small smile of her own. “Let’s talk about this later. What time is it now? Is it even the same day?” She threw a glance to the window, but it was dark outside. “Can I go see him?”

“First I’ll go and get someone to look at you. You slept almost through the night, the sun will be up soon.”

So much time had passed already then, she couldn’t wait to meet their baby.

Madara noticed that she had stared for quite some while and closed her eyes. “I feel very fuzzy.”

Tobirama huffed a small laugh, but he didn't let go of her. “They gave you the good stuff.” Another kiss against her cheek. “You’re probably a little high.”

“A little high on pain meds. God, it’s been a while.”

“I know.”

“But I want to see Kiharu now.”

“I’ll get a doctor.” And another kiss, a long one right beneath her eye, and his fingers didn’t stop drawing circles into her skin. They stayed like that for a moment, but eventually Tobirama stood.

Madara sighed and leaned back. It took only a minute till Tobirama came back with a doctor and a nurse. They asked her a ton of questions, checked her vitals, checked the incision, freshened up the bandages and eventually allowed her to be wheeled to NICU.

As they rolled her through a door into a room with segmented areas, boxes of glass and tired people, she could not help but focus on one of them immediately.

That was Kiharu.

It just had to be. Even from the distance, she could see a baby between beanbag snakes and a small tuft of black curls.

A sudden burst of emotions made the slow approach even more agonising. It was hard to describe how she felt, probably a mixture of nervous anticipation and anxiousness. The biggest worry was the possibility that she might hold him and feel nothing.

She loved her nieces and nephews, had found them cute and had been protective over them right from the start, but this was so very different. It had to be. This was her child after all.

Tobirama must have noticed her wide-eyed focus, because he leaned down to her. “Everything fine?”

Madara could only nod, because they had stopped right next to his bed and she couldn't avert her eyes from the tiny baby. Kiharu's face was round, his skin rosy and eyes closed, but they opened and his feet wiggled when he saw them.

Her eyes widened and she stared into big eyes as dark as hers in a tiny and suddenly very wide-awake face.

Even the constant noise from the machines and all the lines connected to him could not take away from how… perfect he looked.

Madara was not someone to use that word lightly, to think of it at all felt weird, but there was nothing else with remotely similar meaning that could fit Kiharu as he took in the world with unabashed interest.

A traumatic birth and probably a less than pleasant stay in her womb, and yet he seemed utterly unimpressed and barely faced. (Truly Tobirama’s child, she thought.)

“Can I hold him?” Madara asked before she had even had time to consider whether it was rude to disrupt whatever conversation Tobirama and the nurse had had. Madara could barely hear a word because her focus had narrowed down completely.

“Your incision may be very uncomfortable with the extra strain.”

“Will my guts spill over the floor?”

“No.”

“Then I don’t mind.” She knew pain, that was fine, the prospect of finally holding Kiharu was too tempting.

The nurse stepped closer and opened the isolette. “You should do kangaroo care as frequently as you can. Did you plan on breastfeeding?”

She nodded, breastfeeding was fine, it was sort of a no-brainer for her, but… “Kangaroo care?”

“Skin-to-skin.”

“Right.” Madara was already in the progress of standing to sit in the more comfortable chair and Tobirama came to her aid before she even had a chance to ask. He basically lifted her and carefully sat her down again.

The nurse watched her with a hint of esteem, but then gently lifted Kiharu from his bed. Madara was happy that she had been allowed to redress in one of her own bathrobes, so it was easy to open a little.

Kiharu pulled a face and made a very displeased sound when the nurse covered him in a blanket and it reminded her so much of Tobirama's frown that her fingers tingled to reach out.

Instinctually her hands came up, but medical cords were in the way and Tobirama had to help her.

Kiharu felt even smaller when he started moving as soon as she got to pull him to her chest and instinctually Madara tightened her hold on him. “He is so warm and tiny.”

Tobirama nodded. “2.7 pounds and 16 inches.”

He was so small, so much smaller than any normal new-born she had seen in her life. She could hardly believe that he was holding the same child that had been in her stomach not 24 hours ago.

Madara had to clear her throat, and even like that she could only manage to glance up to Tobirama, who sat beside her. “He looks a lot like you did as a baby.”

Tobirama leaned over them and Madara felt his beaming, but silent laughter against her temple where he tried to hide it from the doctors and nurses around them. “Weird, I thought he looks surprisingly similar to you.”

It was probably meant for only her to hear, but in a room as open as this and with the nurse still close by, it was hard to not overhear.

She winked with a nice smile as she gave them a glance. “I’ve seen plenty, but he is one of the cutest babies we’ve had here.” Then she went to lend them more privacy.

She was probably heavily biased, but Madara totally agreed. Kiharuma’s eyes attentively mustered them.

But, really, from all the pictures she had seen of Tobirama as a baby, Kiharuma looked startlingly like infant Tobirama had already, aside from minor differences.

His fingers were tiny as they clenched against her skin.

She glanced up at Tobirama and met his gaze.

They looked at each other and said nothing.

He felt it too, Madara thought, I’m not the only one caught in this weird new something.

Madara took Tobirama’s hand and pressed gently. “I can’t believe I’m a mother.” Her words were more a whisper, a secret between them and between them only. “We have a baby, Tobira.” She stared Kiharu and gently caressed his crown with a thumb. “Do you feel like a father?”

A small tuck at his lips, an unsure movement of his eyes and a deep sigh. “Yes.” He stared at their interlaced fingers. “But I have an unfair advantage over you. I got hours with him already.”

Maybe she would have felt jealous had this been anyone else, but with Tobirama she simply could not do anything but feel joy. 

That was how it was supposed to be after all. Both of them in this together. In her absence, Tobirama had filled in the space she'd left. Had their roles been reversed, Madara would have done the same.

She’d never thought she’d love anyone the way she loved Tobirama. Their love was steady and safe, deeply anchored by the choices they had over the years and, more importantly, by trust and understanding. They didn’t lie to each other. After all the years, `till death do us part´ still held the same meaning.

The feeling that kept spreading in her now felt a lot like that in intensity, but the colour and depth was different. This new one ran bone deep, it bloomed in colour and warmth and it blanked out all the anxiousness she had had about meeting Kiharu and was replaced by fierce determination.

Kiharu was here and now they had to do everything they could to keep him alive.

Her eyes stung, her arms were impossible heavy, her incision felt uncomfortable despite the pain medications and yet she mustered all the concentration to pull him closer to kiss his cheek.

A tiny hand came up to hit her face with an uncoordinated pat and a choked up laugh bubbled up in Madara before she could suppress it. “I can’t believe he was born on Izuna’s birthday.”

“You should give him a call later, he was still very anxious when I last updated them.”

“We might have to give him the honour of the first visit then. What time was he born?”

“5:13 pm.”

Madara sighed. “Izuna was an early evening baby too.”

Time passed way too fast. Tobirama had sat beside her the entire time, ready to take some weight from her or to help her reposition. He took pictures to send to their parents.

The nurse was extremely friendly and updated her on everything that had been going on with him.

When Madara had to hand him over for a nurse to lay him down was like a small heartbreak. That Kiharu was clearly unhappy to be disturbed and taken away from her and her warm skin made it even harder.

But she had to be taken back to her room to be hooked up for more magnesium so Tobirama lifted her into the wheelchair. 

One of the nurses accompanied them and gave Madara a hospital pump for breastmilk which horrified her. Breastfeeding was one thing, but pumping felt weird and she was not sure if it would work anyway, because she hadn’t been feeling anything in the boob-department.

For now, Madara fell asleep fast.

When Madara woke next, the light had shifted again. Tobirama wasn't there, so he was probably with Kiharu, but he had to be back soon, lunch would be delivered in less than an hour.

Madara was in bed, still half asleep with exhaustion and wondering why she had woken, when someone knocked at the door again and ripped it opened a second later. “Mads?”

Madara opened her eyes and stared in surprise. “Izuna?”

“Oh, thank god!” He hurried in, barely remembered to close the door and dropped his things on the floor to hug her tight. He was mindful to not strain her stomach, but Madara could hardly breathe past the amount of hair and arms around her neck. “I barged into two different rooms already. Gosh, you look exhausted.”

“I am.”

When she coughed, he released her and stared at her with concern. “How do you feel?”

“Better than yesterday.”

“Idiot, you scared the living shit out of me. Jeez, I can't believe you gave birth on my birthday.”

Madara laughed and ruffled his hair. He was a grown man, but sometimes she still saw that scrawny teenager in him. “I hardly did anything, I was under general anaesthesia after all.”

“Well, I’m happy you can joke about it already, but Tobi told me everything, so you don’t get to pretend that everything was rosy and chill. You seizured, your body was under enough stress to get you close to a stroke or a heart attack and god only knows how much damage has been one done to your kidneys. You see, I read up on eclampsia and Tobi tends to rant under stress.”

“Just like you do.” There was no bite in her voice. “I’m really happy to see you.”

“And I’m so fucking relieved that you’re okay, you have no idea.”

Actually, Madara could picture it very well, Izuna had probably lingered in his living room through the entire night, all devices on power cords and close by to search the entire web and just in case he got a call, a text, a mail or a telepathic transmission.

He had been that way when their brother Kuro had been in a work incident years ago and when their father had had a ski accident last year. “You look like you haven’t slept.”

“That’s because I didn’t. Now, were is that husband of yours?”

“I suspect he’s with Kiharu.”

“Do you think I could go and see him?”

He was. Izuna texted Tobirama and Madara alerted one of the nurses who checked up on her. Under strict regulations, Izuna was allowed to accompany Madara. That he was allowed to hold him, if only shortly, made him look like a kid on Christmas. And that he good naturedly started whispering to him immediately (`I should be your favourite uncle. I’ll get you the best presents, just don’t tell the others.´)

After lunch, Madara's parents came and brought them what felt like half their apartment as Tobirama had apparently asked them to. After a short visit at Kiharu's, they left again so Madara and Tobirama could spend the rest of their afternoon at Kiharu’s bedside.

Madara had found a position in which she could sit and hold him without pulling her stitches and Tobirama had charmed a nurse to give them another chair. So they sat close, each in their own chair, heads leaning against each other and tired, but with Kiharu soundly asleep on Madara, it felt like a first moment of private, calm family bliss.

Tobirama's fingers were cold and a welcome weight to twist between her own. Madara liked to hold them, even when his were significantly bigger than hers. “Can you believe we're here? I still can’t believe it could’ve ended just like this.”

They kept their voices low. Not only for Kiharu's sake, but because this was something to be kept between them. So Tobirama's voice was a deep hum against her temple. “I was not ready to have you die.”

“Has Hashirama forced his romantic dramas on you again?” Madara asked with a hint of amusement.

“You are the one who suffers through his movies, yet none of the romantic sentiments rub off on you.”

The sigh that escaped her was deep and had her chest visibly move, Kiharu was lifted with the motion and stirred a little displeased. “Mh, Hasihrama’s dramas always get it wrong. Real love doesn’t end with a first kiss or even a wedding. Some end in a divorce, ours would’ve ended with my funeral.”

Even though it was true in a more practical, realistic way, Tobirama wanted to correct one notion of it. “With _my_ funeral.” Tobirama he cleared his throat. “I would’ve been your husband still.”

It didn’t happen often that Tobirama spoke so freely over private, emotional matters. Those were things either whispered in the dark night, in between soft kisses and gentle lovemaking.

So it was only understandable that Madara seemed surprised. “You don’t think you would’ve found someone else eventually?”

Tobirama was very tempted to laugh, but he tried to stay at least partially serious. “Love is as much a choice as it is a feeling. We got _us_ ,” he lifted their interlaced hands and they both looked at the place their wedding bands touched, “and once is luckier than most people get to be in their life. I made my choice, I could not stomach to do it again, so I would’ve stayed your solidary widower till the day I’d died.”

Madara’s throat felt a little closed up. “I don't know how Hashirama can call you unromantic and dry.”

Tobirama huffed a silent laugh and pressed a kiss against her temple. “Our standards differ.”

“True. I’ve seen some of the cards he writes for Mito on Valentine’s Day and they are drenched in rosewater and sweet words, both of which we would find empty in meaning.” Tobirama’s own way of romantic gestures was simply more matter-of-fact, well hidden behind his front and simple words that reflected rang with truth.

When they had to leave Kiharu, they spent a minute just looking at him, sleeping and breathing before they returned to Madara's room for more meds and dinner.

The doctor told her to be up and move, to take a shower and take off the bandages, but to be careful with the stitches. She shouldn’t rub near them or stretch them, and once she was done showering, one of the nurses would come and inspect them.

Madara had been surprised that she was able to stand at all. With the exhaustion she had felt earlier, she would have thought to be dead on her feet and in a way she was.

She stood in front of the mirror, while Tobirama was already in the shower to adjust the water temperature. The incision looked fine, standing like this, they hurt like a bitch though. Even with the pain killers, she felt liked her insides would pour out and all over the floor if she wasn’t careful enough.

Tobirama drew her out of her thoughts. “The water’s nice now.”

“Okay.” But even so, she stayed a second longer and mustered the fresh wound that would eventually line itself in with her other scars.

“A new one for your collection.”

“Yes.” Madara turned and joined him.

The shower was more than big enough for them to comfortably stand next to each other and not endanger her incision.

The warmth felt nice and before she could even ask or say anything, Tobirama got some of the hospitals unscented body wash. “I called my parents, they’ll bring us more things. Tomorrow, either before or after lunch.” His hands felt nice when they gently lathered her back and shoulders in foam. “And I ordered some books.”

Madara felt her lips quirk up into a smile, but her eyes fell close under the gentle massage. “Some light literature, I’m sure.”

He gently pinched her neck at the mockery. “You know how I get.”

“I do.” Without as much as a look, she handed him shampoo to wash her hair. “Sorry, you know that I greatly appreciate it.”

“Mh.”

Something about the way he hummed ached her, so she turned and had his hands shift with her. “I feel extremely lucky to be with you. All quirks included, I'm fond of all of them.”

He sounded already amused. “Even my love for sashimi?”

“Despite even that.”

Tobirama kissed the crown of her head. “It seems, we’re both lucky then.”

And if she closed her eyes again and softly hummed when Tobirama started to shampoo her hair, nobody but them had to know.

The nurses tried to coax Tobirama to go home and sleep in an actual bed, but there was no policy prohibiting him from sleeping in the armchair and if there was one thing about Tobirama, it was his determination to see things through the way he thought them to be done best.

Late at night, he rested his head on one armrest and stretched his legs to rest on a plastic chair.

The next morning, he woke with a tense neck and only a bit of sleep, but happy with his decision.

Nonetheless, they applied for the hospital’s hospitality program before breakfast. By lunch, they had a free room they could live in for the duration of Kiharu’s stay as long as the hospital didn’t need it.

Tobirama split his time between her and the NICU evenly, and on some of those, Madara was allowed to accompany him.

They both tried to be present during check-ups and for more skin-to-skin while Madara had to stay back and wait for someone to clear her for another visit. Sure, it stung to not be a part of it and hold him whenever she wanted to, but there was very little she could change about that.

In the first week alone, they learned a lot about Kiharuma.

When more than one person was talking, he got agitated and annoyed, so much alike Tobirama that Madara could not help but feel even more overprotective.

When the light was too bright or too close to his face, he twitched and lifted his arms to hide his eyes behind. He was able to bend his legs and arms himself, but his limbs were not yet coordinated enough to truly pull it off so a divider was pushed in to protect Kiharu from direct sunlight anyway.

But he was extraordinarily attentive for a baby this young. His eyes followed their every movement and babies his age usually did not do that.

And much to their delight, he showed a very obvious preference for their voices and faces.

Kiharu grew excited when he heard their voices, his hands were not quite able to purposefully reach for them, but they sure tried and his fingers held onto their fingers or clothes with such fierce determination, it was incredibly hard to let him go when he was so obviously seeking their presence.

Apparently, he had already started to link Tobirama and her to the joy of gentle touch, silent words or humming, and exciting textures to try to hold onto.

When Madara had first noticed that he liked to clench his fingers in their different clothing, she had started to bring him different blankets, some very fluffy and soft, some more coarse, and Kiharu liked to probe them between his fingers.

Like most babies in this NICU, Kiharu would get a crocheted octopus to lend him some company in his isolette.

When they had first been asked which colour they wanted for this small toy, they had been interested to find out why giving a plushie was common practice at Konoha's hospital. After a quick research they found that the crocheted tentacles were close enough to the umbilical cord to calm a baby and keep it from pulling on medical cords.

So they chose a turquoise one, called it Otto and once it had been placed by his side, Kiharu had latched onto it and kept a firm hold through most of the day.

Something new was also how much Tobirama enjoyed reading to him, even when Kiharu obviously didn’t understand a single word, but as long as nothing else was overwhelming his senses, he showed his familiar `happy´ signs.

And, another positive thing was that for all the things that went wrong before his birth, Kiharuma was developing well now that he was born.

His weight was increasing steadily and even though he was reliant on the feeding tube, he was surprisingly even and alert.

And he had started nibbling on his own hand when it was close to his mouth, a clear sign of self-soothing that indicated that he was ready for a pacifier and on the right track for bottle and then eventually breastfeeding.

From everything the doctors told them, Tobirama and Madara had expected him to be so much worse. All the books had mentioned `that one night when things would look bad again´, but so far there had been no setback at all.

The second week, Madara was finally taken of some of the medication and cleared to move more freely.

She was also allowed to move from her former hospital room to their rented room where Tobirama had already been sleeping the past few days.

Tobirama’s birthday came and surprised them equally. They thought about leaving for home just for the day, but neither Madara nor Tobirama had felt like being too far from Kiharu. Even driving home for a longer shower, to wash clothes, open the mail, air the apartment or look through her sock drawer where she had hidden her gift for Tobirama felt wrong.

So they stayed and their family came to visit, one after another.

But the most excited was Kagami, yet he was the one person that had another four weeks of exams to go before he could leave and he was extremely frustrated.

Kiharu was still sensitive to touch and handling, so they told him when they were about to do something and he had seemed to connect those two. His body temperature had gotten more stable too.

That only three weeks after his birth he was well enough to be transferred to SCBU was extremely good news. It also meant that Tobirama and Madara were now allowed to get more involved.

She hadn’t thought she’d yearn for sleepless nights of a crying infant, but whenever they had to leave Kiharu for the night, she wished she could exchange all of this for a more normal new-born experience at home. Even if that included everything unpleasant about parenthood.

The SCBU looked more like a nursery at least and less like a laboratory. For the first time they were allowed to dress him in something more than diapers and blankets.

Basically everyone had bought them some baby clothes so they had a bag of folded various outfits to put him in and Kiharu showed an obvious preference for soft materials.

Four weeks after his birth Kiharu managed another milestone. They had started feeding him with a bottle and he surpassed all expectations. The amount at first was very small, but he seemed to find a liking.

Breastfeeding was something he hadn’t really gotten the hang of yet, but that was not worrisome at all. Quite the opposite, at his age, it was quite exciting to see him try at least. Whenever Madara sat in their chair with him wrapped in his blanket and against her chest for skin to skin he at least showed interest in her boobs.

Monday of Kiharu’s fifth week, Tobirama was seated in their chair and had closed his eyes. He leaned back and hummed something that Madara recognised as his favourite piece, but a slower, more mellow version of it to hum both, Kiharu and himself to sleep.

He swayed gently from left to right which was sign enough that he was still awake, but Kiharu looked like he was close to sleeping, his breaths even and his fingers lost their grip on the blanket that was thrown over Tobirama and him.

Madara was ordering furniture online, all sorts of nursery things they hadn’t gotten yet and their siblings had promised to set them up in their absence. Then Kagami called to tell her that he would take the first train the next morning.

Madara was wearing Tobirama’s old dark-blue college sweater, the one that didn’t fit him any longer because his shoulders had grown broader, but for her it was just the right amount of oversize.

Kagami had called an hour ago and so Tobirama had left to collect him from the train station, but then Kagami had texted her that they were stuck in traffic and it could take a while.

So she had started reading to Kiharu.

They bought an enormous amount of books to read to him and by now Kiharu seemed to love it. Whenever they started to speak, silently, because he was still a little sensitive to loud noises, his eyes stayed fixed on the paper, his fingers tried to reach out and feel along the edges. Whenever he got hold, he fumbled with the pages to find something to latch onto and sometimes he crumbled them.

He looked a lot like a new-born already, still on the thin side, but healthy enough that Madara was not worried anymore. His hair had grown too, he simply got cuter and cuter with each passing day. Especially, since his face got more expressive to.

The door opened and Kiharu’s eyes went over to watch and as he saw Tobirama, he tried to wiggle himself free from her arm.

Tobirama smiled, dropped his jacket and scarf by their bag and came over immediately, to kiss and pick Kiharu up, careful and slowly with a few cords still connected to him. Kiharu reached out for him, as well as he could, and Tobirama allowed a small hand to pat his cheek and another to latch onto the seam of his turtleneck.

Then her line of sight was free to notice Kagami who stood by the door, awestruck and open-mouthed as he stared at Tobirama.

Madara stood and stretched. “Hi there Kagami.”

He looked tired, but excited when he snapped out of his awe. “Aunti, he has Uchiha hair.”

“Uchiha hair more in colour and less in texture, I think.” Madara’s entire body still ached a little. “Come here.”

Kagami stumbled over, set down his backpack and Madara gently pressed him into the seat.

He knew how to hold a baby.

With a family as extensive as theirs, no one had a chance to get to adulthood without having to hold children of all ages at least once. Nonetheless he looked a little nervous and Madara had said it to each of their family members so she would say it to him too. “You need to be extra careful with him, okay? He’s very active and will try to shimmy himself to freedom.”

“Okay.” Kagami nodded mechanically.

Apparently, Tobirama wanted to give him a heart attack, because he smiled cheekily and softly lowered Kiharu who looked between them and squirmed. “Go meet your brother.”

And Kagami’s head whipped up at that statement, eyes wide and he opened his mouth to say something. “I-” But his cheeks reddened ferociously. He opened his mouth a couple of times, then spoke with a bit of cautious unease. “I’m not really his brother.”

Then he had to concentrate to hold him safely, because Kiharuma was in his arms and not too happy with his new position, so he started wiggling immediately.

“Well, both of you don’t have any siblings. We thought you may like the sentiment, after all you’re basically family… well you are family, but I mean part of our core family. Just the four of us.” And because Kagami didn’t show a reaction (he sat frozen and stared at Kiharu) Tobirama petted his head apologetically. “Sorry, I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, if that crossed a-”

“No!” Kagami looked up, eyes glinted wet, but one of Kiharu’s small hands reached out, not really to do anything, but Kagami caught it softly with his fingers and allowed Kiharu to wrap both his hands around his thumb.

“No, I… just didn’t expect it.” He sniffled and when he looked up again, his eyes were definitely watery. “Thanks, I like it.” Tobirama pulled out a tissue and Madara gave his curls a gentle stroke.

Kagami managed to free his hand and blow his nose, but he sniffled still, cleared his throat and waved towards his bag. “I brought presents for him too. They’re in my bag.”

“Shall I get them now?” Madara asked.

He nodded. “Please.”

She went and opened the bag and right on top was a gift, bow and yellow wrapping paper, so she pulled it out. “I assume it is this?”

Kagami glanced up only briefly, then nodded and focused back on Kiharu. “He is so tiny.”

“For 35 weeks gestational age, he is actually at a really good weight.”

“But still… I can almost cover him with my hand.” Kagami did lift his hand to hold it over his belly, but he did only gently touch him, which Kiharu liked apparently. Even though he was not able to laugh yet, Kiharu had other ways of showing contempt or happiness and one of them was gripping onto and repeatedly squeezing whatever was in his hold.

Madara opened the package where Tobirama and Kagami both could throw a look into it too.

On top was a plush lamb, white and fluffy.

Before she could even say anything, Kagami started a nervous ramble. “I know you said that they don’t really allow too many things inside the crib with him, but I had already bought this. It’s baby proof, so nothing will come off or rip open. Maybe you can take it home and he can have it once he leaves?”

“It’s really sweet. And Kiharu loves soft things to hold on to. Thank you.” Madara took it and handed it to Tobirama who sat it down right by Kagami’s hand that was still stuck in Kiharu’s grip.

Beneath the plush had been a blanket and Madara had pulled it out and unfolded it to look at it better. It was a crocheted blanket, not too big, but big enough to cover Kiharu, with squares of different colours from pink to green to orange to blue.

And suddenly Kagami looked even more nervous and flustered. “So, ehm that I made myself to-”

Madara looked up, stared and disrupted him. “You made this?”

“Yes, well, I needed something to do to release some stress in between the exams and I wanted to bring something nice with meaning and… well, it doesn’t look as good as a store-bought one so you can throw it away too, but I’ve read that SCBU allows own blankets and such so…” He shrugged, but didn’t dare to say anything more.

“Kagami, thank you. It is really nice.” Tobirama’s hand came to rest on his head and then he placed the blanket over Kiharu and his lamb.

“So how have you been?”

“Exams were fine, I hope. Can I-” He interrupted himself. “Sorry, I shouldn’t ask.”

“No, please do. We can still tell you if it’s something weird or inappropriate.”

Kagami sighed and glanced up shyly from underneath his lashes. “I finished my thesis, could you maybe… look it over? You really don’t have to, you’re busy and all.”

“Hon, Tobirama has been looking for a meaningful evening activity for a couple of days now. He has his colleagues send him in _work_. As long as we’re still in the hospital we have the nights to ourselves, so don’t hesitate with anything.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“So how long will you stay?”

“A week, then I’ll have to leave and submit my thesis and then I’m done. For now at least.”

“And any plans for your free time?”

“Haven’t decided yet, maybe work, maybe make do and apprenticeship, maybe travel a bit.”

It was a testament to how much Kiharu had already developed that he didn’t mind them talking.

Week six came and Kiharu managed his last milestone. So far, he was out of the incubator, because he had gained weight steadily and held his body temperature. The feeding tube and IVs had been removed, because he reliably drank from his bottle. He hadn't had apnoea or signs of heart problems in a while, so when he finally started to breastfeed, the doctors gave them hopes for an early release at the start of the next week. They had to do a preemie care course, but that was a minor formality and most of the things Madara and Tobirama knew already.

And at 37 weeks of gestational age, they were allowed to take him home.

Almost two months after he had been born and they finally could pack their bags for good.

They had so much stuff accumulated in their room, but Tobirama was a specialist in organising things, even into a tight fit and Madara left him with that.

Still, it felt weird and wrong to simply pick Kiharu up, dress him, say goodbye to all the nurses and doctors, and carry him out of the hospital… just like that.

Kiharu’s eyes were big and restless and he blinked against the first rays of a spring sun.

To strap him into a baby car seat and just leave him alone on the back seat felt even worse, because the second they vanished from his field of vision in this unfamiliar environment, he started crying, understandably, so Tobirama sat down next to him and Madara drove them home.

To come home to their apartment for more than a quick shower and change in clothing felt good. Their parents had aired and cleaned frequently, had watered the plants and washed the sheets. Their brothers had taken a weekend to prepare their spare room by painting the walls and setting up furniture.

Kiharu was a little stressed by the change. From the moment Madara got him out of his car seat he latched onto her pullover and his fingers didn’t want to let go.

He did not cry often, but it was still a miracle that he didn’t do it right now.

Tobirama carried their bags, then went back for the rest, while Madara struggled to take off her jacket without having to dislodge Kiharu’s grip.

She heard Tobirama shuffle in and close the door.

“I think we should take a bath.” Madara said when she sat down to open her shoes with Kiharu still unwilling to part from her. “I can practically feel all the hospital germs.”

Tobirama undressed himself and then came to help zip open Kiharu’s thicker outdoor suit, but Kiharu only used that opportunity to reach for him and his sleeve too. “Maybe we should feed him first. He looks like he could take a moment to calm down a little.”

“Okay. Can you bring me my sweatpants?”

“Okay. I wanted to do some laundry too. Any preference?”

“Underwear, I hardly have any left.”

Very gently, Tobirama released the tiny fingers that creased his pullover and kept him hostage. Kiharu started to whine immediately, his lower lip trembled, but Madara gave him a quick bounce and a few steps towards their couch got him calmer again.

Tobirama started a first load of laundry and filled the tub while Madara watched an episode of `The Clementine Squad´, a series Izuna had recommended, while Kiharu nursed.

Their tub was big enough to sit in together, not comfortably, but efficient enough to take rounds of washing and holding Kiharu.

Like Tobirama, he liked the feeling of water, but while Tobirama had no problem showering with freezing temperatures, like Madara Kiharu liked his water one the warmer side.

He fell asleep while Tobirama dried him with a towel.

They had thrown together a quick dinner while Kiharu slept in the spare crib in the living room. Madara poked her green beans. “We’ll have to go get him more things. We hardly have enough diapers to last a week.”

“We should make a list”

“And get an early night in.” All Madara wanted was to settle under their own blankets in their own bed with Tobirama and have Kiharu sleep close by in his half open crib at her bedside. “You know, I really shouldn’t be excited to get the real parenting experience now that we’re home with him.”

At the hospital, they had had to sleep separated from Kiharu and they had never been woken in the middle of the night by his cries.

They had tried to get as much sleep and still get as much time with him possible, but a lot of his care had to be done by nurses.

“I think we’re both looking forward to that, because it means he’s healthy.” As if on cue, Kiharu began to fuzz and Tobirama stood before Madara could even set down her cutlery.

Kiharu first smiled on a Wednesday night.

Madara was stretched out on a blanket in the living room, gently rolling from left to right, bouncing him now and again to watch his hands wiggle all excited.

“Are you a plane?” She lifted him a bit higher and his feet kicker her arms. “Or a bird? Or maybe a shootingstar?”

He liked all silly things, like making a fish-face or funny sounds, but especially when someone blew a raspberry on his belly and Madara did that now, just to make him happy and herself laugh.

But when she glanced up and smiled at him, he smiled back, a bit crooked and uneven, but definitely there.

Just liked that her heart did a leap and she called. “Tobira!”

And then Kiharu gave her cheek a nice, firm pat with his tiny palm, but Madara was too startled to even notice the way he grabbed onto her ear and pulled.

Tobirama stumbled into the living room, glasses askew and pen still in hand. “What happened?”

“He smiled.”

“What?”

“He smiled, come here!”

Tobirama closed the pen and sat it down on their coffee table, way to focused on Kiharu. Madara handed him over before Tobirama even sat on the blanket. “Do you think he’ll do it again?”

“Try something funny.”

But apparently that wasn’t even necessary, their faces were enough for Kiharu to beam.

His first laugh came during bath time on a Sunday evening.

Madara was just next door, looking for houses, when Tobirama called for her.

When she had left the bathroom, Tobirama had been balancing Kiharu in his lap, a hand had supported him just in case that he grew excited by his floating toys again and decided to take a dip face first into the water.

Boats and squid and fish and rubber ducks were floating all around them and whichever Kiharu pointed at with a determined babble, Tobirama had caught for him, had shown him and had told him about.

Now, Tobirama’s hair was covered in foam and standing in all sorts of directions and it could hardly evade small eager hands that wanted to touch and grab.

Every time Kiharu’s fingers managed to wrap around a foamy strand and pull, it slipped right through his grasp.

His expression of confusion and annoyance was very Uchiha, so it cracked Madara up the second she saw it.

Tobirama glanced to her and joined in with her laughed.

Kiharu looked at both of them in curios interest and then he smiled, a bit wider than normal and laughed too.

Madara wished, she would have recorded it.

When half a year had passed of shared parental leave, Tobirama and Madara decided not to extend it and instead continue sharing the load of baby care by shifting half their work each into home office.

Mondays and Thursdays, Madara stayed home with him, Tuesdays and Wednesdays Tobirama did his administrative stuff at home. And Fridays, Madara either took him into work with her or their parents enjoyed to look after him.

At the end of summer, Madara found a house. More surprisingly, she found a house both Tobirama and she liked.

“Here.” Madara turned her laptop for Tobirama to see. Kiharu was asleep against his chest. “It meets all your requirements.”

“And yours?”

She gave him that look, she wouldn’t have shown him if it hadn’t even passed her standards. He huffed, then leaned closer and read through the page.

It was located pretty much exactly between their parents’ houses, in a quiet street with good schools nearby, within their price range and well-build with a garden.

And then they looked at each other for a long while. For a split second Madara thought, what the heck are we doing? Are we really going to buy a house?

Their apartment had been their home for seven years or more. There hadn’t been any other house she had felt even remotely close to, but this one sort of fit.

It felt right and wasn’t this exactly how they had stumbled into all of this?

With spontaneity.

And Tobirama must have seen the decision she had made, probably the iron in her eyes he sometimes talked about and he took his phone and dialled the number.

Then all of it went surprisingly fast, they had an appointment to visit the next day and when everything was simply… right… they made an appointment to set up the contract.

The only things that took longer were the legal requirements and the payment, but with a binding watertight contract in place and everything on its way, they were given the keys.

Some work needed to be done and with a curios baby attached to her neck, Madara was very thankful that Kawarama as an interior designer volunteered to plan everything for them.

That their family was basically the size of an entire crew of craftspeople and very involved, helped tremendously too.

They decide to try and move before Kiharu became mobile. To watch for a toddler was stress enough, to build furniture on top would be irresponsible.

Apparently, they had been talking a lot about houses in his presence, because one morning Kiharu looked at Tobirama, smiled, smashed his water cup against the table top and announced, “House,” with perfect pronunciation.

(Mama and papa followed soon after.)

When Madara told Izuna, he laughed himself to tears.

When he took his first steps, it was in their new backyard on a warm spring day only weeks after his first birthday.

~ ~ ~ Bonus – Kiharu’s second birthday ~ ~ ~

Their kitchen was a mess, the dining room too and they would have to sort all that out eventually, but now was not the time. The last guest had just left and it was way past midnight and all Madara wanted to do was curl up in bed and sleep, but she had wanted to make sure Kiharu was still okay.

His door was ajar slightly and a small nightlight drenched the room in warm light and projected shapes to the wall.

Kiharu was still asleep. It had been a long day for him too.

Even when he was generally calm, the sincere joy he had had to have their family visit for his birthday had translated into a lot of running and playing with his cousins and uncles who were willing to indulge the kids. So it was not surprising that he had gotten a little sleepy right after dinner and had eventually fallen asleep on Tobirama.

His bed had rails, so he wouldn't fall out, but there was a space by his head where Madara could sit. Curled around his favourite plush lamb and turned to face the back of his bed, Madara watched his chest move with every breath.

His hair was curlier than hers, spread over the pillow.

He never woke when she caressed his hair and kissed his cheek, but today he turned to face her and blinked. “Mama?”

“Mh, just wanted to wish you a good night. Sorry that I woke you.” When he yawned, he pressed his face into her side. “I hope you had a nice day.”

“Hm.” He nodded lazily, but suddenly turned to look at her with all his honest innocence. “When will I get a sister?”

Madara coughed, because her throat suddenly felt very dry, but she didn't want to cut his honest curiousity short. “What do you think?”

Yet he only shrugged and held onto his blanket a bit firmer. “Don't know. Everyone has one.”

Well, most of his cousins had a sibling, but plenty of them sisters, so she could see where the idea had come from. “I don't know. We'll see okay?” 

“Okay.”

Madara kissed his crown and caressed his locks until he had fallen asleep again. She could hear Tobirama putting away dishes into the dishwasher downstairs and so she stayed longer.

Only when the stairs creaked and Tobirama's soft steps betrayed his approach, did she stand and leave.

Madara dropped her cardigan on a chair by their dresser, slipped out of her shoes and wanted to go straight to the bathroom to brush her teeth, but Tobrirama caught her before.

His arms circled her chest from the back, his nose nudged the crook of her neck and he held on tight. “Tobira-” 

She might have missed it, his voice was soft and low not for a lack of confidence, but to not break their soft atmosphere. His breath on her neck was warm when he whispered. “You look so good in this dress.”

Madara could feel him hum and his too hot breath smelt of Hashirama's favourite wine, so all she could answer was a laugh.

Despite her aching feet, tingles ran up her spine alongside warm bubbles of joy and her smile reached even her eyes. Something in there caught Madara's breath and she turned in his hold to cup his face. “Good to know.” The hair at his nape was soft, short and fine. 

He glanced up at her, his gaze was serious and deep. Then he pulled her closer where she had thought it to be possible. When he leaned in for a kiss, Madara let her lips be led into a slow, languid movement that set Madara on fire.

And then he backed her up, strong hands found her hips, kneaded her sides and helped her ache against him before her back hit a wall. “Have you thought about another one?”

Between a gasp and a moan, Tobirama knew all of her buttons, she managed to say. “Another what?”

His fingers cupped her butt. “Another baby.”

Nervous was not the right word, but a feel very similar to it stirred in her stomach and had her laugh. She felt tipsy too, but Tobirama was a little more drunk apparently. “Kiharu is your son through and through it seems, he just asked me for a sister fifteen minutes ago.”

“Oh.” 

Her chances of conceiving were better, but there was still no guarantee that she could fall pregnant naturally.

When her period had come back just shy of a year after Kiharu's birth, the pain had come back along with it. But true to her doctor’s prediction, it had been, and still was, milder, because some of the tissue that had caused it hadn't grown back yet and her organs were somewhat normally arranged still.

What the ultrasounds had shown was that the tissue that had been extracted had compressed her innards and some of that malformation had been released after it was gone.

Of course, scaring did not heal and a lot of her innards were still formed weirdly, but when her body was back on a rhythm for the first time in years, it felt strangely comforting.

That her gynaecologist sat her down and told her to use proper contraception because her chances of getting pregnant had significantly increased was awkward. She also made it very clear that she shouldn’t even consider another pregnancy until at least 24 months had passed since her C-section.

Now, two years after Kiharu's birth. “You know there is no guarantee, right?”

“I know.” He brought a little more space between them. “I just meant to ask if it is something you thought about.” 

“To be honest, right now we’re drunk and tired, and that is not the best time to talk about this seriously.”

“Sorry, I think it's the alcohol talking, I probably woudn't have asked so carelessly without it. ”

“But…” She cupped his face and smiled, “I have thought about it, a bit.” They would be better prepared this time around. Her body was in a better condition than before anyway. Should they ever want to have another child, now was probably there best shot. “I say we leave it up to chance, if it happens it happens.”

“You’re serious?”

Madara felt a teasing smirk and she gave his cheek a friendly slap. “Only if you’re up for a little exertion.”

And then he lifted her effortlessly. “Oh, I’ll show you how vigorously we can try.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really love this story and it started more as a whim and a single idea and I'm happy I wrote it down and developed it into what it is now. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did!  
> Thank you for coming on this journey with me!  
> Maybe they have another child (a semi-miracle one), maybe they don't. It's up to you :)

**Author's Note:**

> So, what do you think?  
> Updates may be once a week. Heavily depends on whether my health gets back on track.
> 
> Izuna's daughters' names stem from a famous mountain range, because Madara's and Izuna's names did too and I tried to stick with the pattern.


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